What We Must
by godrevypoint
Summary: COMPLETE. Meet Hermione Granger. She's a confused 26 year old still facing everyday difficulties, even after the War. From new jobs to murder trials to, finally, love, Hermione's life is anything but ordinary. DMHG.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: **I obviously do not own anything that originally belongs to JK Rowling, Warner Bros., Scholastic, or Bloomsbury Publishing. Anything unfamiliar that you may see, including unfamiliar magical artifacts, spells you've never heard of, et cetera, are most likely my own creation and are in no way associated with the official books or movies.

* * *

Some people like to think there is a little niche in the world for everyone to be happy. That there is a happy home for all the people without happiness, and one day life will be truly glorious. If this is the case, why do people die unhappy? Those happy homes must not exist if there are still unhappy people, wars, and disease. The truth is, happy homes don't exist, but the idea of them does. Ideas are what keep the human race moving and innovating, and it's what keeps the candle of hope lit. So maybe there isn't a little niche for everyone, but there is an idea for every person, animal, plant, or other organic source on the planet. With these ideas, we can strive for something better and something happier than what we have.

Hermione Granger was not an ordinary person. Not a normal person on a normal scale, or a weird scale at that. She was often told this by her friends, her family, and even her work colleagues. She had to believe it to be honest; so many things had happened in her life that it was impossible to think she could still live a normal, albeit somewhat mundane, lifestyle. Being the best female friend of Harry Potter proved this, and had proved it so many times before as well. Her school career had always been full of excitement, drama, suspense and even violence. So what was the product of those 7 years? A very weird woman.

At 26, she was a very balanced and organized person. She knew what she wanted, and had known since she was a young girl, and she had achieved it. Or very nearly achieved it. She still had some years to go to complete her official training and become a Professor at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, for yes, she was a witch. Not just a witch, but a brilliant and intelligent witch. She had many certificates, plaques, and awards on her apartment walls to prove that.

However, being the brilliant witch she was, she had to go through a stage where she wasn't brilliant at all. She had called that period of time her lost years, as she'd done absolutely nothing to further herself in Wizarding society, and had known nothing of what to do. The first two years after she had finished her 7th year in Hogwarts, she had completely panicked and lost all hope for herself. She felt as if she'd been kicked in the rear end towards a completely different lifestyle. No one who knew Hermione could say she wasn't independent, but even independence can turn on you. She was suddenly in the 'real world' and needed a 'real job' if she wanted to support herself. Being only 18, she didn't think she could find a job she truly loved, with no experience except for basic schooling. If it hadn't been for her best friends Ronald Weasley and Harry Potter, who knows what would have become of Hermione Granger. And because of those lost years, she was now two years behind in training to become an Arithmancy Professor at Hogwarts. She could have been a working Professor at 23 if she hadn't wasted those two years doing absolutely nothing. But it was good for her, she thought. It was good to have those two years of lost bliss, where she didn't have obligations or aspirations or worries. She had been a relaxed, if not somewhat bummed-out, teenager and had lived one day at a time. In all honesty, she wouldn't take back those lost years if given the chance, because today, the 26 year old Hermione Granger was a bit more laid-back than she would have been without those two years.

As a Professor-in-training, Hermione was required to live near to Hogwarts, if not inside Hogwarts, since she was to attend each Arithmancy class. She had decided she didn't want to live inside of Hogwarts, despite Headmistress McGonagall's protests, because she felt she'd get too nostalgic and side-tracked by being in Hogwarts full-time. Hermione wasn't ashamed to admit how much she missed being a student at Hogwarts, instead of a Professor-in-training. Hogwarts had that enchanting effect on people, taking them back to an innocent and happy time, and eventually overcoming them with nostalgia and depression.

So Hermione lived in the Scottish city of Edinburgh and Apparated to the school each morning. She rather enjoyed the feel of Apparating, as each time it was like the first time. She could still remember the first time she had Apparated in her 6th year, and she also remembered the jealousy on Ron's face. During the summers when school wasn't in session, Hermione lived with Ginny Weasley in London. London was Hermione's true home, and she was a city girl, born and bred. She always missed London terribly during the school year, and also missed Ron, Harry, and the rest of her friends and family. Really, the only people she saw regularly during the school year were Colin Creevey and Padma Patil. Colin was a professional photographer for a prestigious Quidditch magazine, _The Quidditch Essential_. When he wasn't traveling during the Quidditch season, Colin lived in a comfortable loft four blocks down from Hermione's own apartment. She saw him most during the winter, when Quidditch was played the least. However, sometimes Colin would travel to Australia and America for winter Quidditch season, and photograph for other Quidditch magazines.

Hermione lived with Padma Patil in Edinburgh. It was a rather awkward situation at first, since Hermione had never had much of a relationship with Padma, nor had she liked her much during her 4th year, when she was Ron's date. All animosity was set aside though, when Hermione realized her feelings for Ron were completely platonic, as were his for her. Hermione came into the arrangement of living with Padma when she found herself without a place to stay when she first came to Edinburgh. Padma worked for a medical firm as a research scientist. Her job was fairly complicated, and each time Padma tried to explain the basics to Hermione, Hermione found herself either falling asleep or walking out of the room. Padma was a good friend, if not a best friend, of Hermione's. They'd lived together for almost three years, and couldn't have become closer. Hermione enjoyed having another intelligent witch to converse with about anything at all. Having two boys for friends all her life, she rather missed what it was like to talk about the female aspect of life.

In the summers Padma stayed in Edinburgh but occasionally came to London. Hermione stayed with Ginny, Ron's younger sister by a year, in her town house. Ginny was currently going through her own phase of lost time, having no idea what she wanted to do. She was still a bright, funny, and pleasant witch. She frequently hosted gatherings in her London town house, inviting all of their friends from Hogwarts. Ginny was a crazy girl, Hermione had to admit. She went through boyfriends like Hermione went through books, and there wasn't a day that went by when Ginny was going to a club or having a party or going to someone else's party. It was to be expected though, since all her life she was limited in what she could do and what she could buy. Fred and George, who had long since reached millionaire status thanks to their joke shop enterprises across the continent, continued to support Ginny financially despite her pleas not to. Ginny also had a lousy job that still paid fairly well as a book accountant at Flourish & Blotts. In Hermione's opinion, this job was too slow and boring for Ginny's personality, and Ginny wholeheartedly agreed.

As for the rest of the gang, Hermione couldn't be more thankful that they were all well-off. Harry, scarred by the war and by evil in general, decided to become an Auror, his dream job. He was paid well – too well, thought Hermione – and lived a comfortable lifestyle in a manor estate in Surrey, away from the chaos of London. Ron had tried to become an Auror, but found that all the hard training required just wasn't for him. Instead he played professional Quidditch, after he got his act together and took practice seriously. It had been a struggle, since he had to overcome his Hogwarts Quidditch career and the taunts that came with it. Eventually he became a Chaser, when he realized he was a bad Keeper for a reason, which was … well, he wasn't quite so coordinated. His Chaser abilities bypassed his Keeper skills by far, and the Falmouth Falcons noticed. Ron was originally added to the reserve team, but after months of hard practice, he was a welcome addition to the playing team. Hermione worried about him more than Harry at times, as the Falmouth Falcons were most known for their hard play and violence. It suited Ron well, as his temper was as short as his attention span.

The War, as many must be wondering, was a devastation to both sides, but more so for Voldemort's. Dumbledore's message of 'Love conquers all' had stuck with Harry, and he had used it to his advantage. Hermione hadn't been involved with the fighting, per request of Harry, and at the time she had been furious, but now Hermione could see that Harry had saved her. She could tell Harry was still haunted by the war and the death that had come with it, and she couldn't imagine being in his position. Hermione was not scarred by the fact that she had killed people, because she hadn't killed people. Harry had, he'd killed many Death Eaters, and paid the price for it by doubting himself for months afterwards. He had been so overcome with guilt that Hermione had worried for his life on many occasions. He had withdrawn from society for over a year, until Hermione and Ron convinced him to attend a therapy group session for people affected by the war. These sessions had helped Harry see he wasn't a bad man for killing his enemies, especially if it meant Voldemort was finally gone. This sudden revelation pushed him to pursue his dream of becoming an Auror, and fighting other bouts of evil for a living. Currently he managed his fears well and kept Hermione and Ron close to him, whether it was in person, by owl mail, or by telephone. Hermione had taught Ron to use a telephone, much to his dismay, and they had kept in touch regularly.

So in all, Hermione's life had turned out well so far. She hadn't lost her two best friends during the War, and she had become close to many other people afterwards. She was pursuing her dream of becoming an Arithmancy Professor at a school she loved, and had a healthy balance of work and play in her life. By no means was this a perfect life, however, since everyone was feeling the toll of the War on them, but life could go on. Hermione, the smartest witch of her age, realized she could give back to her Wizarding community without being hurt in the process, and each day she strived to accomplish something, no matter how small. Life often surprises us, and Hermione was going to find this out for only the thousandth time in her life.


	2. Letters Exchanged

"Bindy's been a right arse lately," Padma Patil sighed, taking a large sip of her tea.

"Bindy?" Hermione Granger replied, not quite remembering who 'Bindy' was or even what they were talking about.

"Honestly Hermione, sometimes you never listen," Padma admonished, "Stewart Bindy, my boss. He's been making me stay late for over a week. I bet it's because I'm a girl."

Hermione snorted as she stirred the pot of soup over the stove, "You know it's not. There are seven other girls in your station, so you know it's not sexism. Maybe you should come to terms with Bindy's love for you."

Padma started, "Hermione! Bindy's 58! That's so disgusting."

Hermione laughed again, sticking her tongue out at Padma. Things had been relatively quiet as of late. It was Christmas break, and instead of going back to London like she usually did, Hermione decided to stay in Edinburgh and work on her lesson plans for Arithmancy. Professor Vector had agreed to let Hermione teach the class instead of just observing it for a few months after Christmas holidays. Padma, not wanting to deal with her family's overexcitement for Christmas, also decided to stay in Edinburgh and keep Hermione company.

"Oh that's right, you love William," Hermione said lightly.

"Hermioneeeeeeee," Padma whined, "I hate it when you throw that at me so suddenly. You know Roldin hasn't talked to me in over a month, even though I see him everyday."

"Well darling, that's why you take the initiative and talk to him first," said Hermione.

"_Well _darling, we're not all gung-ho warrior-woman like you are. You're something fierce when it comes to love, scaring off any boy who likes you."

"Am I really so scary?" Hermione asked. "I can't help it if I'm straight-forward."

"Maybe we're both just horrible with love," Padma supplied, "Doesn't it make you wish we had Parvati's ease with the opposite sex?"

"I don't know if it's so much ease as it is _easy_ if you get what I mean," Hermione said knowingly.

"She gets around a lot, just say it," Padma giggled. "She could give Ginny a run for her money, looks like."

"We'll find people if we're supposed to Pad, it'll happen," reassured Hermione, "In the meantime, you'd better be ready for the best soup you've ever had in your life. Pass me the salt?"

Padma muttered, "_Locomotor salt shaker_," with a flick of her wrist and a wand in hand, and the small metallic salt shaker lifted off the counter-top and drifted to Hermione on the other side of the kitchen. Hermione caught it in her hand and sprinkled the soup before setting it down beside her. She stood on her tip toes to grab two bowls from the top shelf of the cabinet, and proceeded to pour two generous amounts of soup into both bowls.

"Mmmmmm," Padma moaned, "It smells so good. I haven't eaten since breakfast this morning."

"Brace yourself, woman. I can make a mean soup, and you know it," Hermione smirked, making her way to the kitchen table with both bowls in her hands.

* * *

Hermione was in her bedroom later that night, pouring over Arithmancy textbooks when Hedwig, Harry's white snow owl, rapped on her window. Hermione was delighted to see Hedwig, as she hadn't gotten a letter from Harry in a while. She eagerly jumped off her bed and opened her window, allowing Hedwig to come inside. Hedwig shook her long wings of the snow, and made herself comfortable on the owl perch by the desk. She held out her left leg, and to it was attached a large white envelope.

"Hello Hedwig! How are you?" Hermione greeted, petting Hedwig, "Rowin is out hunting so it looks like it's just you and me tonight."

Hermione untied the envelope from Hedwig's leg, and Hedwig made her way to Rowin's cage, pecking at the seeds inside. Hermione opened the letter and read inside:

_Dear Hermione,_

_It's been a while, hasn't it! I'm sorry I've not written in over two weeks, but Auror training has been kicking my arse, if you'll allow me to be so frank. Tonks is in Mungo's again (what else is new?) so I'm doing her rounds while she's out. She tripped over a stack of books and went flying into the wall, so she'll be out for a week or so. Don't worry though, she's doing just fine, the clumsy thing._

_How've you been? How's Padma? I heard from Colin Creevey last weekend, he sounded like he was having a great time in the States. Have you talked to him recently?_

_Listen though, I know you were planning on staying in Edinburgh for Christmas, but Ginny's convinced me to have a Christmas Eve party at my place, and I was wondering if you could tear yourself away from work for a few days. I'd gladly pay for your train ticket if money's an issue and I'd love for Padma to come as well. Ron said he might make it, he's still not back from Bill's yet. You know Fleur's pregnant again! Lord, let's hope it's not twins again. _

_Well let me know soon, I haven't talked to you in so long._

_Take care,_

_Harry._

Hermione read through the letter again and smiled. Harry was always concerned for her financial wellbeing, and was always offering to pay for her for everything. It was sweet, in an annoying sort of way. She opened her desk drawer and took out a sheet of fresh parchment, a quill, and an inkpot, and sat down to write a reply.

_Harry Harry Harry,_

_My darling boy, how many times do I have to remind you that you needn't concern yourself about my financial life? If ever I'm completely broke, I will most certainly let you know, and also hit you up for money, most like. _

_Of course I'll come to your party. I was so surprised that you were having a party I had to re-read the letter. This is probably the first time in a LONG time you're having a party. I should have known Ginny would be behind it, that wild vixen. And speaking of that wild vixen, any news on the non-existent love front? Because you know, now that the war is over there's no danger in being with Ginny. It's been years, Harry, you know you still love her, and I know for a fact that even though she's gone through more boyfriends than ten girls combined, she's always held you in her heart._

_But anyways, love advice aside; I'll definitely be there for Christmas, but only for a few days! Remember that, Potter! I'll ask Padma if she wants to come as well, but she's been working overtime so I'm not sure. Her boss is "a right arse" according to her. I'll be looking forward to seeing you and RON as well! Where has that boy been? I haven't talked to you in two weeks, but I haven't talk to him in two MONTHS, it seems. He's such an unreliable arse, he never writes to me. Oh, I thought we'd gotten over that part of our relationship, hah._

_And yes! I got a letter from Fleur herself last week telling me the good news! And I agree, let's hope she doesn't have twins again. We all know there are enough Weasley twins to go around. And speaking of Weasley twins, how are Fred and George? Ginny says they're concocting a new line for women again. You know I have to say it, Fred and George really know about women. I wonder why, Fred's marriage should have stopped all the perversion, but George is still relatively single, so you never know._

_Well Harry! I've got lesson plans to make; they don't make themselves, you know! And also don't forget to send something to your aunt and uncle for Christmas. I know you hate their guts, as do I, but they are your only family after all. It would be the right thing to do. _

_Lots of love,_

_Hermione._

Sealing the letter with her wax stamp, she beckoned Hedwig, who perched herself on Hermione's arm, and tied the new letter to her leg.

"Give this Harry, girl," Hermione whispered to her, "And keep him company, won't you? I worry about him so much."

She sent Hedwig out the window, into the black, chilly night and closed the window. Standing by the window looking out at the sky, she thought of Ron, and how he was. She hadn't heard from him in so long, and she wondered why she hadn't thought to write to him sooner. Sitting at her desk again, a small, simply letter is what she began to write.

_Ron_,

_I miss you so much. Why don't you write me anymore? Surely you can take five minutes away from Quidditch to write to your favourite person in the world?_

_I'm looking forward to seeing you play in Edinburgh this March, but that's far too long from now. I hope you'll be at Harry's party this Christmas. How are Bill and Fleur and the twins? It's been ages since I saw them all._

_Hope to hear from you soon,_

_Hermione._

Hermione folded the parchment and sealed the envelope, then set it aside until Rowin came backso she could send it to Ron.

She had to wonder sometimes whether her relationship with Ron really was platonic. She knew she was in love with him during school, but during the war she realized he was just a brother to her, a very close brother. But the war was so long ago, and she and Ronald had changed so much since then. Was it possible to fall back in love with him? After all, her relationship with Ron was very different than hers with Harry. With Harry she was really his best friend, and only a friend. She treated him and saw him as her brother. With Ron though, there were always those stray touches. They hugged more, and kissed more, and altogether touched more than friends did. It was possible, of course, that Hermione just wanted to have someone special in her life, and she was willing to look at Ron romantically to get it. When she thought about it seriously, she knew she had no future with Ron, and that ultimately neither of them would be happy if they were forced together. She needed someone new. What she needed, she realized, was raw passion.


	3. Old Surprises

Hermione decided it would be best to Portkey to London, and then take a connecting Portkey to Surrey, instead of taking the train. The train would take too long, and Hermione was prone to motion sickness when in a moving vehicle for too long. There were several Portkey stations in Scotland; luckily, there was one just outside of Edinburgh, so she didn't have to Apparate too far to get there.

It was a fairly large Portkey station, one of the biggest she'd seen. There were at least 500 people scurrying about, trying to get to their designated rooms containing their portkeys. The magnificent station had floors of marble and beautiful silver wallpaper with golden designs of flowers and climbing vines that were enchanted to move. A small man standing on a tall platform had a wand to his neck, presumably under the _Sonorus_ spell, who was calling out Portkey departure times and room numbers to the crowd. Hermione saw a girl not much younger than herself running across the main entranceway, exclaiming, 'Blast! I'm going to be late, I'm going to be late!' Hermione smiled to herself, glad she wasn't under pressure to get to her Portkey anytime soon. Hers didn't leave for another hour, so she settled herself into an empty terminal and took out an Arithmancy textbook and her lesson plan book, and began to pour over the different chapters.

About twenty minutes later, the man with the _Sonorus _spell called out, "Mr. Malfoy, to Departure room 8 please. Mr. Malfoy, your Portkey is waiting."

Hermione looked up, startled. Malfoy? Had the man just said Malfoy? Of course, she remembered, Malfoy owned over half of the Portkey stations in Europe. It was his own uncle's idea to start a Portkey station, and she'd heard via _The Daily Prophet_ that when his uncle died, he'd left his empire to Draco Malfoy. She looked around, hoping to catch a glimpse of him to see what he looked like now. The last time she'd seen Malfoy was before the War. Malfoy had betrayed his father during his 7th year and left the Death Eaters. Voldemort, none too pleased that a servant had left him, had forbid Lucius to see him ever again, and had also sent a pack of Death Eaters to capture Draco. None had found him though, being the sneak that he was. Draco hadn't re-emerged into Wizarding society until Voldemort was confirmed dead and the war was officially over.

Suddenly she saw a flash of unnaturally white-blond hair, and Hermione rushed after him.

"Malfoy! Malfoy!" she called, trying to catch up to him.

Caught off guard, Malfoy turned to see whose voice had called him, and stumbled over another lady's trolley.

"Watch where you're parkin' yourself!" the lady yelled, pushing Draco off her trolley.

"I'm sorry," Draco excused, helping the woman pick her things from the ground.

He turned towards Hermione, with a blank expression on his face. Clearly he didn't recognize her. "Yes?"

"Malfoy, it's me! I'm Hermione Granger!" Hermione said eagerly, extending her hand.

Draco's expression turned sour and he stared at Hermione's hand as if it were a corpse's hand. "What do you want, Granger?"

Hermione was taken aback. "Malfoy, I haven't seen you in years!"

"And?" Malfoy said. He spoke with the air of one speaking to a little child. Hermione suddenly remembered why it was she hated him in the first place. Apparently age had done nothing to Malfoy's immaturity.

"Well I just wanted to say hello. You know, be pleasant and all that, thought evidently you don't know anything about being pleasant. It was obviously too much to ask for a simple hello," Hermione replied hotly, her temper starting to rise. She turned on her heel and was about to march back to her seat when Malfoy caught her arm.

"Look Granger, just because I wasn't on Voldemort's side doesn't mean I'm your friend. You of all people should know the world isn't just black and white," Malfoy said, "I like to think I'm in the gray area."

"Like your eyes," said Hermione.

"That's beside the point. Anyway, I just wanted to make it clear we are not friends, not even acquaintances. I'm still Draco Malfoy and I'm still better than you, mudblood," Draco snarled. It was his turn to turn away, and his turn to be caught by Hermione, and also his turn to be smacked upside the head.

"Egotistical prat," Hermione hissed, finally turning away and marching back to her Arithmancy textbook.

* * *

"Gin! Oh my gosh, Gin you look so different!" Hermione exclaimed as she stepped into the reception area of the London Portkey station. "Your hair, oh what have you done to it!" 

Ginny Weasley embraced Hermione in a bear hug, pecking her on the cheek. "You like it?"

Hermione ran her hands through Ginny's now shoulder-length hair, looking at it from different angles. "You know, it really suits you. I've never seen you with short hair!"

"It was time for a change. Jonathon convinced me to cut it, to be honest," Ginny admitted, blushing.

Hermione became weary, "Who's Jonathon? The flavour of the month?"

Ginny giggled, "Shut it, Hermione. He's a great guy, and way cute too. I met him two weeks ago at Fleur's announcement party in France. He's a friend of Bill and Fleur's from Gringotts."

"Really Ginny, you need to settle down. What happened to that Finchley bloke you were dating last month?" Hermione asked.

Ginny rolled her eyes, "Please, don't lecture me about my dating habits again. It's not like I'm unhappy. When I'm sick of dating, I'll settle down, but I'm alright for now. And besides, Harry's got a girl too, didn't you know?"

When Hermione's eyes widened from shock, Ginny added, "Oops, did I ruin the surprise? I thought for sure Harry would have told you. I don't know who it is myself, but let's hope it's not some idiotic girl. Well anyways, we have a Portkey to Surrey in 15 minutes, so let's hurry."

* * *

It had been a while since Hermione saw Harry's manor. It was an extravagantly decorated estate, with four different garden paths and many water fountains around them. The inside was elegant and tasteful, decorated by Ginny herself. There were many Quidditch trophies around the mansion, as well as Auror certificates awarding Harry's hard work to the field.

What Hermione liked most was the homey feel to it. It was magnificent and posh, yes, but it was also very Harry. He kept pictures of all his friends around the house. In all honesty, there were more pictures of his friends than of himself, as Harry had always been very modest. He even put up all the little knick knacks that Bill's twins had sent to him, and with Ginny's interior designing skills, the house had a very rich and warm feel to it. Of all her friends' houses, this was undoubtedly her favourite, though she'd never admit that to anyone else for fear of hurting their feelings. She always loved strolling in the gardens and conversing with the help around the estate, and basically being at ease knowing she didn't have to worry about anything.

"Hermione!" Harry exclaimed, running to greet her at the gates.

Hermione ran into his arms, and embraced him. She stayed in his arms for well over five minutes, taking in the scent of him. She loved Harry's distinct scent, the scent of cinnamon and apples. She gave him a quick kiss on the mouth and surveyed him. He looked a bit peaky to her, but that was to be expected. Harry spent so many hours of the day cooped up in his office at the Ministry or his office at home pouring over paperwork that he often didn't see the light of day for weeks at a time.

"Harry, why are you so thin?" Hermione whined.

Harry laughed, kissing her cheek affectionately and replied, "Speak for yourself. You must have lost ten pounds since I saw you last. Vector's working you too hard."

"Nonsense. I just want to get caught up on those two years I missed," Hermione started, but Harry stopped her.

"I thought we both agreed you wouldn't mention your lost years in that way. You know you needed some time off, after all the hard work you did at Hogwarts," Harry said seriously, "I worry about you, Hermione. You're so isolated in Scotland."

"But I have Padma and Colin, some of the time, and I keep in touch like nobody's business," Hermione countered, "You don't have to worry about me, Harry, I'm fine."

Harry gave her one of "those" looks and said, "I want to talk to you later tonight, Hermione. Just you and me."

Hermione gave him an exasperated sigh and leaned on his shoulder. "I feel so disoriented. It's been so long since I've traveled by Portkey that I'd forgotten how nauseating it is."

Harry gave her a pat on the back and pulled away from her, "I want you to meet someone, Hermione. Promise me you'll be nice to her."

"Is this the mysterious girl Ginny was talking about?" Hermione asked, grinning evilly.

Harry's jaw dropped, "Gin told you! I specifically told her not to!"

"Oh just introduce me to her already, I'm so anxious to meet her," Hermione urged, pushing him towards the front door.

Harry guided Hermione inside to the formal parlor, and sitting on a large black couch was a slim girl with long black hair and oriental eyes. She was sitting with her ankles crossed delicately and sipping on what looked like a martini. She wore a very short red cocktail dress which matched her bright red lips. It was Cho Chang.

"Hermione, you remember Cho, don't you?" Harry asked, beckoning Hermione forward.

Hermione gave her a stiff smile and extended her hand, "Of course! How are you, Cho?"

"I'm great, thanks. Work at the Ministry's been pretty slow lately, so I took some time off and I'm living with Harry now!" Cho exclaimed, taking Harry's hand in hers.

Hermione felt like she'd been hit by a truck. "You're living with Harry? Since when?"

Cho shrugged, "Oh, not too long. Only about a month or so."

"A _month _or so? Harry, why didn't you tell me!" Hermione shrieked.

Sensing some rising tension, Cho quickly excused herself, "I'll go get another drink, shall I?"

"In all the letters you've sent in the past 'month or so' you didn't find it fit to mention you have a girlfriend? Or that _Cho Chang_ is that girlfriend? OR THAT YOU'RE LIVING WITH THAT GIRLFRIEND!" Hermione raged.

"Hermione, please calm down!" Harry pleaded, "I just wanted it to be a surprise. And honestly, I know you don't like Cho, so I didn't want to get a reply letter telling me what a mistake I'm making."

Hermione scoffed, "Who said I don't like Cho?"

Harry raised his eyebrow at her, "You said it yourself plenty of times after our date in 5th year, and after her friend ratted to Umbridge about the DA. Don't lie to me, Granger; you know you don't like her."

Hermione huffed at him and stalked past him up the spiral staircase. She knew which room she'd be staying in, the same one she always stayed in. She slammed her door and flopped down on the large Oak bed. She knew why she was angry and it wasn't because Harry hadn't told her. It was because this meant Harry was moving on and leaving Ginny behind. Hermione never got upset about Ginny's many boyfriends because she knew Ginny still cared about Harry, but Harry had never mentioned Ginny in a romantic way again after the war, so she was always hesitant. Now that Harry had a girlfriend, it was clear he didn't hold Ginny in romantic regards at all. Hermione decided that when she and Harry had their talk tonight, she'd definitely bring this topic up for discussion. In the mean time, she was looking forward to seeing everyone else again, including Ron, Fred, George, and Angelina, Fred's wife.

Still feeling disoriented, Hermione crawled under the covers not bothering to change her clothes, and fell asleep quickly. Her last thoughts before falling asleep were on how to get Ginny and Harry together somehow, and the last image in her mind before everything went black was a distinct flash of blond hair…


	4. Lit Matches to an Old Flame

Hermione awoke feeling refreshed and ready for the evening to begin. She took a short shower in the adjacent bathroom to her room. She loved that Harry had a custom tub built, a replica of the tub in the Prefect's bathroom at Hogwarts. She played around with the taps, reminiscent of the many nights spent in the Prefect's bathroom, enjoying herself. She leaned back against the tub wall and minutes later immersed herself into the water completely, taking in the warmth. Baths were one of Hermione's favourite past-times, especially when she could take long baths while reading a good book. Unfortunately the only things to read in the bathroom were Ginny's magazines, so she didn't spend so long in there.

Twenty minutes later she was scrounging through her suitcase, towel wrapped around her body and thick, wet hair cascading her shoulders. She sniffed, feeling cold. After she found what she'd been looking for, she hurried back into the walk-in closet to change. She cast a quick and simple spell to dry her hair, also trying and failing to tame it. One of Hermione's worst nuisances was her hair. It was just as unruly as Harry's, but ten times thicker. Most days when she tried hard enough, she could get it to flatten out a bit, but it was usually a lost cause. The hair overwhelmed her small face, sometimes making her look like a lion. She wished she had the time to use Sleekeazy's Hair Potion, but alas, between her Arithmancy training and her home life in Edinburgh and London, that kind of time was a rare luxury.

Instead she pulled it back into a messy pony-tail, having to use three ties to keep it in place. She slipped into a silky blue skirt that fell short just below the knee and a white cardigan, with pearls for buttons. She clipped in some simple barrettes and headed down the stairs, excited to see everyone.

She went into the same parlor area where Cho had received her earlier, and was pleasantly surprised to see the older Weasley twins demonstrating their new tricks to Ginny.

"Hermione!" George called, "Good to see you, woman!"

"George, Fred, it's been ages!" Hermione grinned, embracing them both in a fond hug.

Fred kissed her hair and replied, "Too right you are. Come, come, we've got lots to show you!"

"And lots of free products, might I add," George put in, ushering Hermione to sit beside Ginny on the black sofa.

"Oooh, free? No need to tell me more than once," Hermione smiled, eyeing the different pink products spread over the tables. "Didn't Angelina come, Fred?"

Fred rolled his eyes, "That woman's sick again. Been moaning 'bout it all morning, matter of fact. She said I'd better be home before midnight, and I said I'd get home on my own time."

Hermione gave him a look to which Fred replied, "And my own time is well before midnight, thank you very much. No one has ever accused me of neglecting my wife."

"I should hope not! Angelina was feared on the Quidditch pitch for a reason, you know," Ginny said, winking at Fred.

Hermione flopped down on the sofa next to Ginny, leaning her head on Ginny's shoulder.

"Portkeying still got you down, love?" Ginny asked.

"No, I took a nap and took care of that," Hermione said, "But why didn't you tell me that Cho was Harry's girlfriend?"

Ginny's eyes darkened, "I didn't want to dampen the happy mood by mentioning that hose-pipe."

George sat on the floor by Hermione's feet, "You lot don't agree with this relationship either, then? Fred and I had to stop ourselves from sighing dramatically when we saw Cho. Can you imagine going through our 7th year again! Well, 5th for you. But anyways, Cho broke Harry's heart on more than one occasion. I trust you haven't forgotten what happened after we left."

"How could we?" Ginny said, "Cho's a slut, born and bred."

"Oh Gin, don't say that," Hermione admonished, "But I'll admit, manipulating a man just to get in his bed is devious beyond words. Ron was right horrified after Harry told him."

"Speaking of Ron, does anyone know if he's coming tonight?" Fred asked.

"I spoke with him last night, he owled me. He's back in England and said he'd be here by 10 at the latest," said Ginny.

Just then Harry walked in through the parlor doors, followed by a tall, blond haired man and Cho.

"I've got champagne," the man said, raising his hands.

"Goodness Jon, I'd wondered where you got to," Ginny said, moving over on the sofa to make room for him.

The man dipped his head down and gave Ginny a passionate kiss on the mouth. Harry, Fred and George pointedly looked away.

"Hermione, this is Jonathon, the guy I told you about earlier," Ginny explained, giving Jonathon a pat on the back of his hand.

"It's a pleasure," said Jonathon, shaking Hermione's hand, "Ginny's told me so much about you."

"I'm sorry I can't say the same," Hermione said, openly glaring at Ginny, though there was no real venom in her eyes. Jonathon just looked confused. "Ginny told me you work at Gringotts, Jon?"

"Oh yeah," Jon said, "Not doing mathematical stuff, though; haven't got the brain for that sort of thing. I did some curse-breaking for the Gringotts down in Scotland before I moved up here. I'm a Scottish boy, through and through."

"Is that so? I'm currently living in Edinburgh," said Hermione, "Whereabouts are you from?"

"Not Edinburgh, no. I was born in Glasgow, moved to Aberdeen when I was a young thing," Jon said.

"Oh!" Hermione exclaimed, "I have a joke for you! I've been wanting to meet someone from Aberdeen to try it out on. Okay, what do you call an Aberdeen fan with five sheep?"

Jon's face was blank, "Um…I'm sorry, and I don't know quite what you're referring to."

Hermione frowned and said, "Well, that's okay, maybe you need to be a fan of football to get it."

"What is football?" Jon asked.

"You lived in Scotland and you never heard about football? Even if you're a pureblood, that's shocking," Hermione said, eyebrows raised.

"I'm going to the restroom, excuse me," said Jon, a bit frightened of Hermione.

Once Jon was safely out of the room, Hermione whispered in Ginny's ear, "Darling, he's not very…well, he's not the brightest bloke in the world."

Ginny sighed, "I know, I know. It took me a while to get used to him. I had to remember not to talk quite so much. But really, once you get over the lack of conversation, he's great in bed. Sometimes I think that's the only reason I keep him around."

Hermione was shocked, "Ginevra! That's so scandalous!"

Ginny giggled, "Oh, that's right, I've forgotten – you've yet to be plucked."

Before Hermione could process what Ginny had said and reply scathingly, Ron Apparated into the center of the room, unfortunately toppling over Cho. Cho shrieked, trying to get Ron off of her.

"Good to see your Apparating skills are just as horrible as they were the last time we saw you, Ron," said Fred sarcastically.

Ron was too busy staring at Cho, no doubt wondering what the hell she was doing in the middle of Harry's parlor.

"What are you -" Ron started, still looking at Cho, before Hermione cut him off.

"Ron, I need to speak with you in the kitchen please, it will only take a minute," Hermione said, already dragging a confused Ron out of the room.

"What the hell is Cho Chang doing here!" Ron burst, once safely inside the kitchen with the doors closed.

"Can I at least get a proper hello?" said an exasperated Hermione, pointedly turning her face for Ron to kiss. Ron kissed her cheek and quickly embraced her before interrogating her again.

"Honestly Ronald, your attention span sometimes… Anyhow, Cho's dating Harry again," said Hermione, knowing Ron was about to interrupt her again, "Don't say anything yet, I'm not finished. Harry didn't tell either of us because he knew we'd disapprove, which we both do, don't say otherwise. I sure as hell know I wasn't pleased to see Cho Chang sitting in Harry's parlor sipping on a martini like she owned the place. But don't tell Harry you don't approve of it, because he might just be happy with Cho, and who are we to take happiness away from Harry? If anyone deserves to be happy, it's him."

Ron was silent for a few minutes, obviously thinking over this new and surprising information. "I just always thought he'd go back to Ginny. Everyone knows she still loves him, except for maybe Harry, of course."

Hermione nodded sadly, "I'm not sure how Ginny's taking this. She seems a bit angry, which is to be expected, but you know she's got to be feeling more than that. Harry's not a casual dater; if he's dating someone it's serious."

"Maybe I should talk to Gi-" Ron started, only to be interrupted by Hermione again.

"Don't, Ron. Give her some space. She'll talk to us if she wants to, but I really don't think pushing her to talk to us will accomplish anything. Come on, let's go back in there and properly greet everyone, and remember – don't upset Cho or Harry. We're walking on thin ice here."

* * *

The night was certainly an eventful one. Everyone was jolly and having a wonderful time, except for maybe Ginny. Hermione couldn't help noticing that Ginny didn't have her trademark toothy grin on throughout the night and that her eyes had lost some of its luster. Unless looked at closely, Hermione doubted anyone would notice the small change in Ginny's behavior, because she had tried hard to smile all night. Hermione glanced occasionally at Harry as well, hoping to see similar signs which would mean he still had feelings for Ginny, but there were none. Harry was jovial and talkative the whole night, entertaining his guests like the perfect gentleman he was, and still managing to give Cho individual attention.

After Hermione had changed into her nightgown, she wandered downstairs, hoping to catch Harry so they could have that "talk."

Unfortunately what Hermione found was much worse. She heard shouts coming from the kitchen; the door looked as though it were meant to be shut, but it was slightly ajar, so Hermione could hear everything perfectly. Never one to feel guilty about eavesdropping, she stepped into the shadow of the armoire beside her, and listened. She recognized the two voices as Ginny's and Harry's.

"I don't know what you're so upset about!" Harry yelled, obviously irritated.

Ginny laughed, though it was more a bark of laughter. A bark of cruel, cold, lifeless laughter. "Typical Harry, you can never see what's right in front of you."

"What is that supposed to mean, Ginny? I'm not a _Legilimens_, so don't expect me to know what you're talking about. Just come out and say what you're trying to say, because this is getting old," Harry said, the venom apparent in his voice.

"What is Cho doing here, Harry!" Ginny cried, her voice pained, "Why was the first person I saw when I walked into your home Cho Chang?"

"She's my girlfriend, Ginny," Harry said, "And she's living with me. You have no right to be upset, and frankly, you're just being plain childish."

"How am I being childish!" Ginny raged.

"You've dated only about 100 guys in the past two years," said Harry, his words biting, "It's no wonder you can't settle down with one guy; you're only after one thing, and it's purely physical."

Hermione sucked in a breath, surprised to hear Harry be so brutally honest, especially towards Ginny.

"What are you implying? Are you saying I'm a slut?" roared Ginny.

"Look at your life Ginny! Look at what's become of you! Your life revolves around partying, getting drunk, and sleeping with a new guy every week," shouted Harry, "You have the mindset of a 16-year-old, and it's time you grew up. Get a real job and a real life, because everyone's sick of cleaning up your mess."

Ginny choked back a sob and spluttered, "We're through, Harry. I don't know what we were before, friends or friends with benefits, I don't know. I just know it ends right here."

With that, Ginny Apparated out of the kitchen to God knows where, leaving an indifferent Harry in the kitchen, and a very stunned Hermione outside.


	5. The Confession

Hermione hesitated outside of the kitchen door, wondering if now was the best time to pick a fight with Harry. Especially an enraged, hormonally charged Harry. Hermione decided that from what she'd heard, Harry had no right to say the things he did to Ginny, no matter what Ginny had said to deserve it. Someone had to be the bigger man, and it would only be proper if it were Harry.

Taking in a deep breath and setting a fierce expression on her face, Hermione stepped through the kitchen door and slammed it shut behind her. Her first thought was to just slap Harry across the fact for being such an insensitive git, but thought that conversing in a rational and controlled manner would achieve more.

What she saw wasn't what she'd expected. She saw Harry slouching over in his stool by the counter, eating Muggle-brand ice-cream straight from the carton. His face was red and had obviously been tear-stained before he wiped his face. Hermione felt a pang in her heart.

"I know you heard everything, Hermione," Harry croaked, "And I know what you're about to say."

Hermione let out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding, and strode across the kitchen to Harry, wrapping her arms around him. "Oh, Harry."

"Let me explain first, before you go off on a tangent," said Harry, straightening in his seat. "Ginny and I have always had an unusual relationship. When I first met her in my second year, she was in love with me but I didn't reciprocate her feelings. Eventually she got over me or at least it seemed that way. You remember how she was in our 5th year: a feisty red-head who wasn't afraid of me anymore. Then in my 6th year, I realized I had feelings for her. Strong feelings. I was stupidly heroic and broke off our perfect relationship because I feared for her life.

"But I promised myself I would get her back, that I would make her mine again once Voldemort was defeated. Well, the war came and went, and I forgot about my promise. I was so deep in my own self-pity after the war that I hid from society altogether – even from you and Ron. Eventually I became so afraid of losing anyone else in my life that I stopped letting people in. I knew Voldemort was gone, but I still believed that anyone I cared about was destined to be taken away from me. I'd already said goodbye to Ginny once – at the end of 6th year – and I wasn't going to put myself through that again. What if Ginny and I didn't last forever? I couldn't go through that torture again; I couldn't break up with Ginny again. So I just…didn't go back to her."

Hermione could feel her eyes watering throughout Harry's monologue, unaware of how Harry had been feeling for all these years. She had blindly assumed Harry didn't care for Ginny anymore, when it was so obvious to her now that he did, more than Ginny would ever know. Most would say Harry was a coward for being of afraid of getting back together with Ginny, but they wouldn't know Harry at all. Of all the people Hermione knew, Harry deserved to be saved from any more perils the most. It wasn't cowardice that kept him from Ginny, it was self-preservation. Harry had suffered so much loss and pain in his life that if he had even one more devastation, Hermione feared Harry would be physically and mentally exhausted enough to just let go completely. He would die. So that was why everyone in Harry's life worked hard to keep him happy and full of life. He was so close to the edge that everyone was walking on eggshells around him, trying to keep his health and his spirits up.

"You can't shut yourself away from everything, Harry. You can't shut life out anymore," Hermione pleaded, "You don't know how much everyone worries. You need to get out and _live_. Do something reckless because it's fun, not because someone else's life is at stake. Be brave because you want to be, not because you're expected to be. Live a life that's yours, because you can't live for anyone else, Harry – not anymore.

"As for what you said to Ginny…_why_ did you say those things? She was all but offering herself to you because she knew you'd never make the first move, and you just yelled in her face, calling her horrible things."

Harry looked up at Hermione, his eyes pained, "You know what I'm like when I'm angry, Hermione. You know I can't control what I say no matter how hard I try. What hurts the most is that I wasn't even angry at Ginny; I was angry at myself and at Cho. I was angry at myself for being so cowardly and being so heartless; how could I let Ginny be alone and hurting for ten years? I abandoned her. And I was mad at Cho, for guilting me in to taking her back."

Hermione raised her eyebrows, "What did Cho do?"

Harry sighed, "We ran into each other a month and a half ago at the Ministry. I knew she was working there as well, but I'd tried my hardest to avoid her. Eventually reality catches up with you though, so I knew I was bound to see her. She caught me completely by surprise, showing up in my office. She had been crying, I could tell. Scrimgeour sacked her personally for skiving off work all the time and partaking in illegal activities including selling magical artifacts to Muggles. She came to my office in the hopes that I could put in a good word for her to Scrimgeour and help her get her job back. Scrimgeour was none too pleased, and sent me on my way. I felt so bad for her that I offered to let her stay at my place, since the apartment she was living in was paid for by the Ministry, and when she lost her job she also lost her apartment.

"Needless to say, one thing led to another and we were sleeping together. It was a completely unconscious decision; I didn't even know what we were doing. When I realized I couldn't go through Cho's drama all over again, I told her we couldn't be anything more than friends, and that it would be best if she found another place to live. Cho lied to me, telling me she was pregnant, so of course I couldn't turn her away. I insisted we go to St. Mungo's and have her checked out, and I found out she'd lied."

"Cho…Cho sold magical artifacts to _Muggles_?" Hermione asked, horrified, "I never thought she'd do something like that! And Harry, why is Cho still here if you found out she was lying to you?"

Harry looked away, embarrassed, "I know it's completely and morally wrong, but I needed someone to help me forget Ginny. With Ginny's boyfriends, I knew I'd never stand a chance, and I guess all I wanted was to feel needed again."

"Oh Harry," Hermione said, "Did you really think you weren't needed? If I didn't have you in my life, I wouldn't be half the person I am now. You keep me sane and afloat in this vast ocean called Life. If Ron didn't have you, he'd surely be in his brothers' shadows, but now he's out there making a name for himself through professional Quidditch. You have affected everyone in your life, Harry, whether you see it or not. I hope you never feel like you aren't needed again, because you are, Harry, you are."

Neither could fall asleep that night, too exhausted from the day and the drama already. They sat in the living area, watching the fish swim in their enormous tank in the wall, bored. They talked and reminisced and advised each other on their lives. Hermione ended up weeping some time after 4 in the morning, after telling Harry about her fears as an adult in the Wizarding world and the growing distance between herself and Muggle society – the society including her parents.

Eventually they feel asleep on a comfortable brown sofa, best friends entwined by limbs and clothes, neither feeling guilty about their sleeping position. Hermione had fallen asleep in Harry's arms on a number of occasions, and had always felt safe and hidden from the world.


	6. You Break It, You Buy It

**Author's Note: **I know it's still early on in the game, and few, if any, reviews are to be expected. I'm just reminding you that if you are reading this story, please do review. I only have one review at this point and I'm wondering if this story is worth continuing. I will, of course, continue writing even if I have one devoted reader. I just like to know if anyone's reading or interested in this fic. Constructive criticism, compliments, suggestions, et cetera are appreciated and welcome, I just ask that you're not rude about it.

Also, I really hate writing out dialogue. To make it easier for myself, and probably a bit more interesting to read, I will sometimes leave out the 'she said' or 'he said' parts of dialogue, especially if it's a long string of dialogue. I will always make it easy to know who is speaking and to whom he/she is speaking with, so there will be no confusion, hopefully.

* * *

"Is it really so hard to believe?"

"Well, actually, yes. We're talking about Harry and my little _sister._"

"Look, Ronald, all I'm saying is I don't want you hounding Harry or Ginny just yet. Since, well, they're not even speaking at present. And don't you dare say anything to Cho."

"To _Cho_? Why the hell would I say anything to her?"

"I don't _know, _Ron, I was just making sure you wouldn't do anything stupid, since you're prone to doing stupid things."

"Am I now? Go on, explain yourself."

"I'm not explaining something so obvious to you!"

"Obvious? What are you saying, I'm obviously stupid or something?"

"Cor, I don't even know what we're arguing about, so just shut up, I have a headache."

"Do not tell me to shut up, Hermione! I'm not some little child."

"Shut up, Ron."

* * *

Hermione was well-rested and at peace with herself and her surroundings. She had enjoyed a quick, hot shower, a cup of mint tea and a slice of toast with marmalade, and was currently meditating in a sunroom by one of the gardens.

She had taken to meditating when the war first started. Her mother, an avid follower of yoga and all things Zen, had introduced Hermione to meditation during Hermione's 7th year, when she started to stress over NEWTs. As the war progressed, she realized she needed an escape from time to time. An escape from constantly worrying about her friends in the war and about herself, as well.

Her legs folded elegantly and expertly beneath her, she breathed in deeply, exhaling after ten seconds. She lifted her arms towards the artificial sky above, and stretched until her arms ached. Her arms still raised, she rotated her neck clockwise and counterclockwise, cracking stressed joints.

Hermione thought this room was perfect for meditating at any time of the year. It had artificial sunlight year-round, and one could even feel the warmth of the sun's rays, and occasionally even a light breeze.

Extricating herself from the complicated position, she stretched her legs and arms once again before returning inside the main area of the house, hoping for a glace of cold Pumpkin juice.

Harry was slouched against a wall in the kitchen, his eyes closed. He seemed to be deep in thought, taking in long, intoxicated breaths.

"Feeling alright, Harry?" Hermione questioned, giving him the once-over.

Harry's eyes remained closed as he replied, "Just thinking. Sometimes everything can seem to be overbearing, and it's nice to just think without being pressured."

"You should take up meditation, Harry. If anyone needs it, you do," Hermione said, striding across the kitchen the stand by him, her back resting against the wall.

They stood in silence for a few minutes before Harry broke it, "Did you eat this morning? I'm sorry I didn't wake up earlier to prepare anything for you guys."

Hermione patted his shoulder, "Nonsense, Harry. You know you don't have to be hospitable around us. I know where everything is and I had some toast this morning. As for the others, I'm sure they ate. Did you?"

"I'm not very hungry," Harry grumbled.

Hermione said soothingly, "Talk to Ginny, Harry. You need to fix things between you two."

"It's too soon," Harry protested, "Neither of us wants to see the other at this point, and I don't want to do anything I'll regret."

"Well, you need to talk to Cho, at least. You can't keep stringing her along blindly. However horrible she may be, she doesn't deserve to be lied to," Hermione said, "You should get cleaned up and think about talking to her today."

She kissed his cheek lightly and turned to walk out. She turned at the door and said, "I was hoping to go into London today. You know, get my Christmas shopping done and all that. I figure I'll stop by the Ministry to say a quick hello to Mr. Weasley while I'm out, so I won't be home until tonight."

Harry gave her a weak smile.

* * *

Hermione Apparated into Diagon Alley, just by Flourish & Blott's. Hermione paused at the entrance of Flourish & Blott's, wondering if she should go in or not. She knew if she went in, she'd be in there for quite a while and end up wasting at least two hours of her time.

_It's only a quick look, _Hermione thought, _I'm not going to buy anything. I'd just like to see if there's anything new of interest._

Her mind set, she pushed open the door, the familiar welcoming bell ringing as she did so. The brusque manager gave her a curt nod before returning to his many clients at hand. Christmas season was possibly one of the worst times in the store, being as it was always so crowded and noisy.

Hermione made her way to one of the more secluded corners of the store, which was the interior designing corner, coincidentally enough.

_Well, Ginny's present's all set, _Hermione thought, leafing through a few different books.

She eventually settled on _Magical Designs for the Modern Witch or Wizard_, a sparkling blue book with a magnificent wand and a smiling witch on the cover.

Exiting Flourish & Blott's, Hermione made her way to Madame Malkin's next door, hoping for a sale of any kind – robes were getting more expensive by the year.

The squat, smiling witch that was Madame Malkin's greeted Hermione hurriedly in the shop, running this way and that trying to accommodate what looked to be a very demanding customer.

Hermione waited patiently for the next fifteen minutes, reading through Ginny's new book. Finally, Madame Malkin led Hermione to a platform on which to stand, and started measuring her.

"What were you looking for exactly, dear?" Madame Malkin inquired, measuring Hermione's waist. "Oh you've gotten smaller than I remember!"

Hermione was amazed that Madame Malkin even remembered her from such a long time ago. "I was hoping for a nice set of dress robes, but I haven't a lot of money with me…"

"Oh, nonsense! There's always enough money for a nice set of dress robes," Madame Malkin laughed heartily, "I'll give you half off."

Hermione gushed, "I couldn't let you do that! Please, I insist on paying in full or not buying anything at all."

"Don't you start, miss, I insist. Been meaning to get rid of some dress robes. Lord knows the opening of that fancy Gladrags has been the downfall of me! My loyal folk been rushing over there!" Madam Malkin exclaimed.

Hermione felt guilty for considering going to Gladrags instead of Madam Malkin's. In truth, the only reason she did decide to come to Madam Malkin's was because Gladrags was too expensive for her.

Hermione left the store with an elegant white box tucked underneath her arm, and in it was a beautiful set of sparkling red dress robes. They were a healthy mix of naughty and nice, Madam Malkin had said. They showed enough skin without being considered scant.

The rest of the afternoon was spent going in and out of various stores, hoping to find suitable presents for all of her friends. The hardest, indeed, was finding a present for Ron. His only real interest was Quidditch, and being a professional Quidditch player meant having every possible Quidditch-related item before they even hit stores. She did, however, settle on what she thought would be a marvelous – if not hilarious – present for Ron.

Exhausted after shopping, Hermione quickly Apparated to the Ministry, hoping to make a very short and to the point hello to Mr. Weasley, and get home. In all honesty, she had come to discuss Ron with Mr. Weasley, hoping for a serious talk.

After being cleared by security and getting her visitor's badge, Hermione made her way to the elevator. She waited for it to arrive, and out stepped eight or so people, all in a hurry. She stepped in, and heard someone cry, "Hold that please!"

Hermione put her hand in front of the elevator door just in time for the one and only Draco Malfoy to come running in, out of breath.

"Thanks," he said, not quite looking at her yet. When he finally did, his breath stopped short and he looked away again.

Hermione said nothing to him and hardly looked at him. She thought that when one wanted time to speed up, it slowed down, and when one wanted time to slow down, it sped up. Currently this was a case of wanting time to speed up so she could get her little old self out of the elevator, but time was, as usual, not on her side.

"You've got a lot of stuff," Malfoy observed, his voice curt.

"Yes, great observation," said Hermione sarcastically.

"Oh, don't be so catty, Granger," Malfoy said scathingly, "I was only trying to break the silence."

"Don't start with me, Malfoy, I'm not in the mood," said Hermione, her voice threatening.

"I was not starting anything," Malfoy retorted.

"Oh, just shut up already," Hermione snapped.

"I beg your pardon? Who do you think you are?" Malfoy called imperiously.

The elevator door opened and they both made a rush to get out at the same time, resulting in Hermione's things to get knocked over. Her dress robes fell out of the box, and Malfoy tripped over them, tearing the left sleeve from the seams.

"My dress robes!" Hermione cried, lunging for them in the hopes of salvaging them.

Malfoy groaned, clutching his wrist.

Hermione stuffed the robes back in the box and hurriedly gathered her things, running away. She was horribly embarrassed.

"Wait!" Malfoy yelled after her, jogging to catch up with her, "Granger, wait!"

"You ruined my dress robes!" Hermione wailed, "I _just _bought them, and they were not cheap!"

Malfoy opened his mouth, smirking, probably about to make a scathing reply about her lack of money and/or stature in the Wizarding world when he thought better of it and closed his mouth. Instead he said, "I'll replace them."

Hermione gaped, "You'll what?"

"I'll replace them, Granger, don't get a big head," Malfoy said, "I'm only doing this because I don't want to be indebted to you. Where did you get your robes?"

"From Madam Malkin's," Hermione said tentatively.

Malfoy grimaced, "Honestly Granger, no one buys their robes from her anymore."

"Gladrags is too expensive, Malfoy. I don't have your trust fund, and I have to make due with the money I earn, which honestly isn't that much," Hermione said, blushing.

"I'll buy you robes from Gladrags, Granger," Malfoy said, "Robes that aren't so susceptible to tear."

"Right now?" Hermione asked, "I was going to say hello to Mr. Weasley…"

"Well I haven't all day! I'm a very busy business man," Malfoy clucked, already impatient.

Hermione opened her mouth to protest and tell him she didn't care how busy he was, when he grabbed her wrist and Apparated back to Diagon Alley.

"How dare you!" Hermione bellowed, "I cannot believe you had the _nerve _to do that."

Malfoy wasn't listening, and was already trekking up the hill to Gladrags.

"Are you listening to me!" Hermione shrieked from behind him, "Malfoy! Don't ignore me!"

Malfoy spun on his heel to face her, "You really are the most annoying and infuriating witch I've ever met, and that is truly saying something since I've had to deal with Pansy Parkinson for my whole school career."

Hermione laughed, "Don't pretend you didn't like her, Malfoy, she certainly didn't have to pretend she liked your trust fund and your…bed sheets."

Malfoy was horrified, "Did the whole school know? Christ!"

"I was only joking," Hermione said, laughing even harder, "You mean to tell me you really did…you know…"

"Have sex? Are you really so prudent that you can't say the word 'sex'?" Malfoy said, rolling his eyes.

Hermione blushed, "Shove off, Malfoy."

Malfoy turned back up the hill when he stopped two minutes later and turned around again, "You've never had sex?"

"Malfoy!"

"Stop being such a silly bint, Granger!" Malfoy said, "I was just asking, since you seemed very anxious to talk about sex, which can only mean you've never enjoyed the physical sensation that is commonly called sex."

"You're asking for a slap, you are," Hermione warned, raising her hand, "I'm going to Apparate back if you don't just shut up and mind your own bloody business."

Malfoy smirked and shrugged, and continued towards Gladrags.

* * *

An hour later, Hermione was thoroughly exhausted and glad to be rid of Malfoy. She was safely inside Kensington Gardens, enjoying the view of Muggle London from a comfortable bench. She hadn't expected for it to take so long, but Malfoy, being the petulant child he is, refused to buy her a set of ugly robes. In Hermione's opinion, none of the robes she picked out could possibly be deemed ugly, but Malfoy refused to the point of stamping his feet and whining, that Hermione was forced to buy a pair of which Malfoy approved. They settled on a pair of shiny pink robes, which included a detachable Muggle-looking dress underneath, and which came with a gift box full of hair and make-up products. Malfoy had the audacity to say Hermione should use those products, in the hopes of taming her untamable hair.

Hermione slowly started to fall asleep on the bench. Her eyes were half closed and playing delightful tricks on her mind. She saw a face which she knew didn't belong in Kensington Gardens. She wondered why Draco Malfoy was standing in front of her with a peculiar expression on his face, and her world was white.


	7. Everyone's Happy On Christmas Eve

Hermione awoke thoroughly confused and with pains in her neck. She was still sitting on a bench in Kensington Gardens. For reasons she couldn't quite fathom, before she opened her eyes moments ago, she had imagined Draco Malfoy to be sitting next to her. Her eyes open now, she turned beside her to make quite sure that he wasn't really next to her. Instead was Ginny's present, with a note attached to it:

_Granger, _

_You left this book behind – interior designing? And here I thought you'd actually accomplish something worthwhile._

_You should take more care of your belongings, and also try not to fall asleep in a clearly public place – anyone could have stolen something from you or quite possibly even kidnapped you. Good to know you're still dubious and senseless as ever when it comes to matters of personal safety._

_DM_

For a few seconds, Hermione had actually been pleasantly surprised and grateful that Malfoy had returned her book. That feeling soon passed as she read the rest of the note. Malfoy had the uncanny ability to annoy just about anyone on the planet. He was an insufferable snob who thought he knew the universe's secrets, and he alone was the key to success. Hermione had no doubts that his own parents must have hated him from time to time. Immediately after thinking this, Hermione repented. His parents were dead, of course. They had been for years.

* * *

"You were gone for a while, Hermione," Harry said to her as she stepped in through the grand entrance. 

"I fell asleep at the Gardens in London," Hermione apologized, carrying her things up the stairway, "Would you lend me a hand?"

Harry rushed up the stairs, taking a majority of the things from Hermione's arms and Apparated to Hermione's room and back. He returned empty-handed and with a lovely smirk on his face.

"Don't look at me that way, Harry. I forget how useful magic can be sometimes," Hermione said, pulling on Harry's ear playfully.

"Hermione!" Ron called from the top of the staircase, "You're finally back! You've only been gone all day; I thought this get-together was supposed to be about _getting together_."

"Well, forgive me for buying you lot Christmas presents. I can always return your present, if you'd like," said Hermione, her hands on her hips.

"Come off it, woman. I love presents," Ron teased, "But I also love being able to see my best friend from time to time too, you know."

"Everyone loves me," Hermione laughed.

Harry and Ron tickled her sides, teasing her. Hermione was particularly susceptible to tickling, as her sides were so sensitive. She laughed and swatted at the two of them, enjoying the moment.

"We don't laugh enough anymore," Harry commented.

"We don't see each other anymore!" Hermione added, looping her arms through Harry and Ron's. She led them into her bedroom and they all flopped down on her bed, taking in deep breaths and enjoying the merriment of the Christmas season and being back together again. The Golden Trio.

"So what are we doing tonight?" Hermione asked, "It's Christmas Eve, after all."

"I thought we'd head into the city," said Harry, "Surrey can get a bit boring."

"Lovely!" Hermione cried, "There's so much to do. We can see the lights show in Leicester Square, and have some drinks at The Purple Bar. It's a Muggle joint but it's absolutely lovely. The atmosphere is so intimate and fun."

Harry only nodded sleepily, "Whatever you say. I know nothing of the London hot spots."

Ron was already snoring on Hermione's other side. Hermione untangled herself from Ron and Harry's arms and made her way out of the bedroom, not before tucking them in and kissing them each gently on the cheeks. She laughed to herself, wondering what they'd say when they woke up next to each other in the same bed.

She took advantage of this time to Apparate to Ginny's place in London and see how she was holding up. She arrived outside of her town house and performed the necessary spells to enter through the front door.

"Gin?" Hermione called up the stairs. "Gin, it's Hermione. Are you upstairs?"

Hermione heard Ginny sniffle from down the hallway, "No, I'm in the kitchen."

Hermione made her way to the kitchen and found Ginny slumping in her seat, reading _The Quidditch Essential_.

She looked up at Hermione, a blank look in her eyes. "Bulgaria won against Spain last night. Krum managed to catch the snitch within the hour."

Hermione flinched. Ginny's tone was completely emotionless and her face was stoic. Also, she had mentioned Viktor Krum. Something she was explicitly told not to do ever again when Hermione and Krum ended their relationship during the War.

"How's Viktor doing?" Hermione asked wearily.

"Ask him yourself. Send him a letter or something, you don't have to shut him out of your life completely," Ginny said harshly.

Hermione flinched again, "Ginny, don't take out your anger on me. I'm only here because I care about you and I want to make sure you're okay."

"Don't be so self-righteous," spat Ginny, "You're not so perfect."

Hermione was taken aback and furious, "Ginevra Weasley, I came here because you're my friend and I care about what happens to you. I don't care how pissy you feel, that doesn't give you the right to take it all out on someone who's done nothing but be nice to you and care for you."

Ginny paused, and a minute later let out a horrible sob. Her small shoulders were shaking and her hair was quivering beneath her. She wailed and screamed incoherently, all the while letting out those horrible sobs.

Hermione ran to her, wrapping her arms around her, hushing her with soothing words.

"Why doesn't he like me?" Ginny sobbed, "We were so perfect in my 5th year. My life was so perfect. He was mine and I could kiss him whenever I liked."

"Ginny, he hasn't gone anywhere, he's just figuring his life out," Hermione reassured.

"I'm sick of waiting for him!" cried Ginny, "I'm sick of waiting for my life to get back together. I want everything to go back to normal."

Hermione had no idea what to say to the hysterical girl. She was clearly more hurt than she had ever let on before. This sudden break-down went deeper than her problems with Harry.

"I've always been the last child, the last girl of the family. I always got boys' hand-me-downs and I was always taken for granted. Harry was the best thing that ever happened to me. He made me forget about Tom, hell he even _saved _me from Tom. Harry and I _belong_ together, Hermione, we belong together! I thought I'd never be able to get over Tom, but I could!"

Hermione's face went perfectly white. "Tom?" she whispered, terrified.

"Tom!" Ginny wailed, "Tom! I was so hopelessly in love with him! I tried so hard to get him back, to be with him again! I didn't think I could live without him in my life, and all I wanted was to be with him!"

Hermione was becoming more terrified by the minute. She had absolutely no idea Ginny still thought about Tom, 14 years after the fiasco. She stiffened under Ginny's weight, suddenly wanting to leave this kitchen, leave this frightening girl.

"Ginny, Tom Riddle was Voldemort," Hermione said, "He was _Voldemort_."

"I know, I know! But he wasn't like You-Know-Who. He was sweet, caring, kind, handsome, and absolutely perfect," Ginny said dreamily, clearly not herself anymore.

"Ginny, stop!" Hermione pleaded.

"Harry changed everything. He was a real person. He was solid and alive and _real._ I knew I loved him the moment he saved my life. He saved me! I knew I'd never love anyone else the way I loved him, and I vowed to wait for him for the rest of my life.

"It happened eventually. In my 5th year, I kissed Harry James Potter. I didn't think my life could get any better. I had the perfect boyfriend and he made me forget all about Tom Riddle. But then Harry broke up with me at Dumbledore's funeral. I told him I'd be all right, that I expected this break-up, but I lied. I lied straight through my teeth. I knew I'd never be the same again. I'd never be the same again."

Ginny had stopped sobbing, and was now only sniffling. She laid her head on Hermione's shoulder, small tears still squeezing out of her eyes. Hermione stayed with her until she was assured that Ginny was alright again. She stayed for an hour, smoothing her hair and rocking her back and forth in her lap.

Clearly Ginny's problems were a lot more complicated than any one had thought.

* * *

"Finally, Hermione," Ron said, awake and ready for the night. 

"Oh and Hermione," Harry said, "I'd like you to know I really _hate _you for leaving me in the same bed as Ron. I was thoroughly disgusted, waking up to Ronald Weasley."

Hermione didn't have the heart to laugh. She smiled at the two of them, trying to hide her worries and concerns.

They Apparated to Leicester Square, fifteen minutes before the lights show was to start. Harry wandered off to find some drinks, leaving Hermione with Ron. This was exactly the opportunity she had been waiting for.

"There's something very wrong with Ginny," Hermione said.

Ron looked at her startled, "What? Is she alright?"

"No," Hermione said, shaking her head, "She's absolutely not alright. She's a mess. I went to see her when you and Harry were asleep and if you'll allow me to be so frank, she scared the bloody hell out of me. She was rambling on about Tom Riddle, and how she was completely in love with him."

Ron was alarmed, "Tom Riddle? And you left her alone!"

"I stayed with her until she fell asleep, and I laid her on her bed. I cast protective spells around her bed and I put up wards around her house. She's safe, Ron. I think we should go back to her tonight, though. I don't want her to be alone all night," Hermione said, on the verge of tears.

"Are you going to tell Harry?" Ron said, clearly distraught and apprehensive.

"No, he doesn't need or deserve to know. Ginny probably wouldn't want him to know either," Hermione said.

"We'll go see her right after drinks tonight," Ron settled.

When Harry returned, Hermione and Ron immediately ceased their discussion, and pretended to laugh. Hermione had a feeling Harry wasn't falling for their façade. He was an accomplished Auror for a reason, and he was either ignoring their peculiar behavior, or rightfully pissed off that his two best friends were keeping something from him.

They all enjoyed rounds of drinks at the bar – Harry more so than Hermione and Ron. He drank heavily, and was completely drunk by the end of the night. Hermione elected to make sure Harry returned safely to his home, while Ron went to Ginny's place.

Hermione heaved Harry up the stairs of his house, into his bedroom. She took off his shoes and socks and even his pants, struggling to put on his pajama bottoms. She had him lift his arms as she peeled off his shirt. She had to pause many times during this charade so Harry could vomit in the bathroom. Hermione hadn't the energy nor ingredients to prepare a Pepper-Up Potion for Harry, so he was left to sober off the Muggle way.

"What am I doing with myself?" Harry whispered as Hermione tugged off his shirt.

"Hush, Harry. Now isn't the time to have this discussion," Hermione said briskly.

Harry caught Hermione's lips with his own, kissing her slowly. Hermione, shocked, pulled away abruptly.

"Cho's gone," Harry whispered, tears falling from his face, "I'm all alone."


	8. Christmas in Surrey

**Author's Note: **Please don't accuse me of making Hermione look like a Mary-Sue. I obviously had to describe the changes in her appearance over the years sooner or later. I tried my best not to make her into a beauty pageant queen while at the same time giving her some pretty qualities. I hope I didn't overdo it.

And in this chapter I'll be resolving the Ginny/Harry conflict, so I'll finally be able to move on to the Draco/Hermione goodness!

As always, please review if you're reading!

* * *

Hermione didn't sleep at all that night. She was too frightened about what would ensue should she fall asleep.

After putting Harry to bed, Hermione returned to her guest bedroom and stared at the wall. There was too much to think about and not enough time to contemplate over everything. She knew that coming back here would mean drama. Her life revolved around drama.

All she wanted was to forget about everything that had happened during the last 24 hours. She wanted to turn back time – stop Ginny from ever receiving Tom Riddle's diary, and stop Harry from kissing her.

The kiss. Harry kissed her.

There was nothing to think about. She knew she had nothing but platonic and sisterly feelings for Harry, and that his feelings were mutual. She had never thought of Harry in a romantic way and was quite sure he never thought of her as anything more than a very good friend. She was so frazzled by the kiss because it had caught her by alarm. She couldn't help but feel shocked and slightly queasy when Harry had kissed her. It's how one feels when one's blood brother or sister kisses him or her. It's that nauseous, "this is so wrong" feeling. She felt as if she'd betrayed Ginny, betrayed Ron, and Krum, and every other guy in her life.

This sudden revelation sparked a flame in Hermione's mind. She felt like she'd betrayed every guy in her life. What did this mean? Did it mean Hermione was too emotionally attached to every guy she'd thought of romantically? There weren't very many – Hermione had only ever had one boyfriend, and his name was Viktor Krum. Hermione wasn't sure if she could even consider Krum a boyfriend. She never allowed him to do anything more than kiss her, and even then they had been innocent kisses. She had never done anything remotely sexual for fear of being caught or thought of as promiscuous. When Hermione and Krum had gotten back together just before the war, she was 19. Krum was 23. He obviously had some sexual encounters, being a famous seeker for a famous team, and also being quite handsome in some girls' opinions. He often pressured Hermione, pleading her to let him continue with more than just kisses, but Hermione held her morals in far too high regard to let Krum have his way. This lack of sexuality in their relationship is what eventually ended it.

Thinking back on it now, Hermione wondered if she shouldn't have just let Krum do what he wanted with her. Maybe it would have made Hermione a wiser person, someone more open-minded about sex and physical contact. But ever since she'd started school and fallen for Ron, she had refrained from dating other boys in the hopes that Ron would someday realize he had feelings for her, as well. It wasn't hard, seeing as Hermione was never considered beautiful. Her hair was far too bushy, her body seemed too small for her head, and with that hair she looked like a lioness about to pounce. She was bossy and closed-minded, self-righteous, and frightening. No boy in the right mind would ever waste his time trying to get into Hermione's pants, when there were so many other prettier and easier girls around, like Lavender Brown or Parvati Patil. So after years of romantic neglect on Ron's part and every other boy's part, Hermione eventually turned a blind eye towards romance and sex. She didn't crave it like other girls did, she wasn't curious about what it was like the first time. She didn't even believe in love. She believed in a strong will, in smarts, in succeeding. She believed in winning.

As the years passed, Hermione's body and physical appearance did as well. She was certainly not beautiful like Cho Chang or Fleur Delacour, but she wasn't quite as frighteningly overwhelming has she had been. Her hair was still abnormally brushy, but it wasn't as long as it was. It was shoulder-length and looked somewhat tame compared to what it used to be. She had stylish side bangs which managed to give her hair a definite shape. They framed her face prettily. Her freckles were gone, leaving behind a clear, smooth apricot-colored face. With her flatter hair, her head didn't seem so big in comparison to her body. She had a small waist with perfect proportion to her head. The downside, however, was her cleavage, or lack thereof. She didn't really mind it, seeing as she wasn't as in touch with sexuality as other girls were. In Hermione's opinion, she was decent looking, if not a little above average.

These thoughts of her appearance only proved to depress her more, thinking about the lack of love in her life. Hermione had always considered herself a compassionate person, in touch with humanity and human emotions. The problem, she realized, was that she wasn't _passionate. _She didn't live in the moment, she didn't take risks, and almost everything in her life was planned out in her scheduler. Her goal for this year was to be bold and daring, and she was determined to accomplish it.

Towards the coming of dawn, Ron Apparated in her room, looking exhausted, worried, and years older. He flopped down beside her, without saying a word.

Hermione let out a few quiet sobs, letting Ron pet her hair and kiss her face. They were comfortably entwined in Hermione's bed, Ron's strong arms around her. He kissed her mouth several times.

Eventually he whispered, "Merry Christmas, Hermione."

Hermione thought of Draco Malfoy. She sobbed into Ron's shirt until she fell asleep.

* * *

"Merry Chr – what are you two doing!" 

Hermione jolted out of bed, banging Ron's head with her elbow. He groaned into her pillow, pulling the covers over himself further.

"Harry! I didn't know you were up," Hermione cried, looking for her shirt on the floor.

"Did you two…you didn't have sex did you?" Harry asked, horrified.

"Of course not," Hermione snapped, pulling her shirt on over her bra, "We just fell asleep."

Harry let out a sigh of relief, "I would probably throw myself out of the window from embarrassment if you'd…you know."

Hermione glared at him, glancing at Ron again. He was still in deep sleep, oblivious to the humiliating conversation around him. "Are you feeling better? You were terribly drunk last night."

Harry's clutched his head, "Was I? I wasn't sure what happened last night, so I apologize for anything stupid I might have done –" Hermione blushed, looking away "–I'm a horrible drunk. I made some Pepper-Up Potion for myself this morning, but I've still got a nasty headache."

Hermione smiled at him sympathetically, "You probably didn't make it right. Potions isn't your strong point, darling. I'll make you some as soon as I get downstairs."

"Should we leave Ron here?" Harry asked, eyeing Ron tentatively.

"Of course not! It's Christmas and I'd hate to open presents without him," Hermione said, giving Ron a good thump on the back of the head, "Wake up, sleepy head! It's Christmas!"

Ron groaned, lifting himself slowly off the pillow, "Wuzzgoinon?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, "I'm going to open your presents for you if you don't wake up in the next ten seconds."

Ron shot out of bed, "Alright, alright, I'm up."

They all rushed downstairs to be greeted by Fred, George, and Angelina. Fred looked so happy that his face was glowing.

"Can I tell them now?" Fred whined to Angelina.

Angelina fixed him with a stare and said, "I think I should be the one to tell them, sweetums. I've got nine long months ahead of me." Fred took her hand in his and Angelina continued, "I'm pregnant!"

At the same time, Fred cried, "I'm going to be a dad, I'm going to be a dad!"

Hermione gasped, Ron eyes went wide, and Harry's face was red.

"You're joking!" Ron said in awe, "You're absolutely bloody joking."

"Am not!" Angelina said proudly, patting her stomach, "I finally decided to see the bloody doctor after my third week of being consecutively sick. He had some good news for me, alright! Is it wonderful?"

Hermione gave Angelina a hug and squeezed her hand, "Congratulations! Oh, it is so wonderful! It must have been a lovely Christmas present."

Harry congratulated Angelina also, saying, "I bet your child will have some super Quidditch skills. A killer Chaser for a mum and a ruthless Beater for a dad!"

Fred puffed his chest out proudly, "Oh, he will. And yes, I know it's going to be a boy. It had better be, at least."

Angelina laughed and pulled Fred's ear, kissing him on the cheek.

They all gathered around to open and exchange presents, everyone enjoying the frivolity and merriment. Hermione received a beautiful necklace with a real diamond from Ron, a book of Asian spells from Harry, a box of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes products from George, and a book entitled _Quidditch for Extremely Dumb Dumbies_ from Fred and Angelina. She laughed at the last present, throwing a pillow at Fred. Her pile also had presents from Padma, Ginny, and Colin. Padma sent her a complex organizer, which sang the date, Ginny bought her a box-set of books from Flourish & Blott's about Egyptian magic, and Colin sent her souvenirs from the United States, including a snow globe with the Statue of Liberty in it and a shirt that said I Love New York on it.

"I wish I could have a fire whiskey," Angelina said, eyeing Fred's drink with jealousy.

Fred put his hand on Angelina's stomach, saying condescendingly, "Now, now. We don't want our son to have any defects. We want him to be handsome like his daddy, and how can I tell him he's ugly because his mum's a roaring alcoholic?"

Everyone laughed, raising their glasses to that, and drinking deeply. Angelina laughed too, because it was true – she loved to drink. She was as feisty as a fire whiskey, and there wasn't a day that went by when Fred didn't acknowledge his luck in catching Angelina for himself. Hermione hoped she could have that simple happiness someday.

Hermione excused herself to the kitchen to get another drink and Ron followed her.

"How was Ginny?" Hermione said, not looking up when he entered.

Ron sighed heavily. "She was embarrassed as ever that you told me. She didn't want to talk at all; she basically just shut me out. I stayed with her though and she seemed back to normal. I told her to talk to Harry, but she said she was sick of making the first move."

Hermione sipped on her wine. "Love is so complicated. Ginny and Harry know they love each other and belong together, but they're so caught up in their pride that it will take them forever to realize they're made for each other."

"I think we should just tell Harry what's going on. Maybe it'll give him the initiative to do something about it," Ron said, exasperated.

From outside of the kitchen, Hermione heard Angelina call, "Ginny! I've got great news!"

Hermione and Ron looked at each other, surprised, and ran out into the parlor. Ginny was standing there, timidly playing with the hem of her skirt and looking at the ground. She looked absolutely adorable in a simple way. She wore no make-up, had a plain pink ribbon in her hair, and was wearing a sweater two sizes too big.

Still not looking up, she said, "I'm sorry to intrude. Can I talk to you, Harry?"

Harry was transfixed, planted to the spot. Hermione had to violently elbow him in the ribs to get him out of his trance.

The next half hour was torture for the impatient Ron and Hermione, and extremely confusing for Fred, Angelina, and George, none of whom had any idea about Ginny and Harry's fallout.

Occasionally shouts could be heard, and at one point Hermione thought she heard Ginny cry. When Harry and Ginny emerged from the kitchen, they both looked exhausted, as if they'd just run a marathon.

Ginny took Harry's hand in hers and said, "We're getting engaged."

Hermione gasped, her hands moving to her mouth. She was completely speechless and shocked. Angelina ran up to Ginny and hugged her tightly, telling her about her own good news – her pregnancy.

Fred and George clapped Harry on the back, said "It's about time!" and kissed Ginny soundly on each cheek. Ron slowly got up, shaking Harry's hand and pulling him into a hug, and held Ginny at arm's length, giving her a stern but fond glare, as if to convey the message, "You'd better behave yourself."

Harry and Ginny looked extremely happy, albeit extremely exhausted as well. They held hands for the remainder of the morning and afternoon, and Hermione felt a huge weight being lifted off her shoulders. She unwound and let loose, drinking and talking happily with her favorite people.

It was unfortunate when 7 o' clock rolled around, and Hermione had to leave back for Edinburgh.

"Can't you stay another night?" Harry pleaded, "I feel like we hardly talked at all."

Hermione smiled at him, "I can't, Harry. I have work to do and Padma's all by herself. I really wish I could stay, but the summer will be here before you know it and I'll be back for two months."

Ginny hugged her tightly whispering to her, "Thank you so much for taking care of me last night. I know I said some nasty things to you, and I want you to know I'm so sorry. I know I can be a right bitch when I'm upset, but that's no excuse for treating you the way I did."

"Don't apologize, Ginny. I'm just glad you're better and glad that you and Harry are getting _engaged_!"

"That's right!" Ginny giggled, "And I can't think of a better Maid of Honor, can you? I'll miss you when you're gone, girl, and don't forget to write! I'll keep you posted on the Harry-front."

Hermione kissed Angelina on the cheek, congratulating her again, and embraced Fred and George in a bear hug. She kissed Harry good-bye and turned to Ron last.

"You'd better write to me, sir, or you will have some serious explaining to do," she said mock-sternly.

He looked back at her innocently, "Don't know what you're talking about, I write you all the time. And you'll be seeing me in March! Don't forget about my Quidditch game!"

She beamed at him, "I'd never. I'll see you soon!" She kissed him on the mouth gentle, patting his cheek, and with a final good-bye to everyone, she Apparated out of Harry's parlor and into the London Portkey Station.

"Time to go home," Hermione whispered to herself, heading into her designated Departure room.


	9. This Isn't What I Wanted

"It's so good to have you home! I hated come home from work to an empty apartment," Padma said, her head against Hermione's shoulder as they ate ice-cream.

"It's good to be home too. I love visiting Harry and the rest but I miss my work and my own apartment," Hermione agreed.

Hermione had arrived home two hours previously. It was currently eleven at night and the girls were still up, chatting and avoiding going to sleep.

"I really should be getting to sleep," said Padma, "I have to go in to work early tomorrow."

"Bindy still being an arse?" Hermione asked, frowning.

Padma laughed, "No, actually! It's for a much pleasanter reason. William wanted to talk to me before work so I said I'd meet him early in the morning."

"That's great, Padma! I hope it goes well," Hermione smiled, giving Padma's shoulder a squeezed.

Padma magicked the ice-cream bowls clean with her wand and set them in the cabinet. She yawned loudly and made her way to her bedroom, shutting the door softly.

Hermione stayed out for a while, unpacking her things and hew new gifts. As she was taking out her Arithmancy lesson plans a note slipped out from between two papers.

It was the note Malfoy had given her.

She unfolded it. It was wrinkly and the ink was somewhat smudged, but she could still make out the words. Malfoy had a unique style of writing. It was slightly messy but very sophisticated and curvy, elegantly put together. She stared at the note for a while, wondering why she wasn't throwing it out. She put it in her desk drawer for safe-keeping. She tried not to think about it, but she knew she didn't want to throw it out. Probably because it showed that Draco Malfoy was human. He was being playfully teasing; he wasn't being outright mean to her like he would have done in school. It was almost flirtatious, and Hermione wanted to savor that.

* * *

Hermione awoke early, feeling grumpy and confused. She really wasn't looking forward to making a fool of herself on her first day of teaching. She knew she'd forget how to do a certain equation, or just completely blank on what she was going to say. She was always nervous speaking in front of people – it came with being a paranoid genius.

She forced herself out of bed and started boiling a pot of coffee on the stove with a flick of her wand. She washed her face and took a quick shower, then put on her Assistant Professor robes. They were long and flowing, colored in solid green with golden rimming along the sleeves and neckline, with the Hogwarts crest above her right breast.

She wandered out into the kitchen eating a piece of toast and pouring her coffee into a thermos so she could drink it at Hogwarts, and noticed a note attached to the cabinet above the coffee pot. It read:

_Hermione_

_I knew you wouldn't be up until after I left this morning so I put some leftover kidney pudding and treacle tarts into containers for you, in case you wanted them for lunch. I know you hate eating in the Great Hall when you have papers to grade so I thought a quick lunch would be satisfactory. I hope your first day teaching goes well!_

_Love,_

_Padma_

Hermione smiled, grateful for Padma's thoughtfulness. She slipped the two containers into her lessons bag and with the thermos of coffee in hand, she Apparated to Hogwarts. She landed in Professor Vector's office. Professor Vector wasn't in her office currently, presumably running errands before her first morning class, so Hermione settled herself into her own little desk in the corner and took out her lesson plans to look over one last time. She added some adjustments here and there, crossing this and that out and adding more in. Adding and subtracting from a plan was what Hermione did when she was nervous. She didn't just fidget like normal people did, she had to change things and rearrange them.

Glancing at her watch, it was fifteen minutes until the first glass with 5th year Slytherins and Gryffindors. She didn't relish the rivalry that was to ensue for her first class, but a challenge never stopped her.

Professor Vector returned ten minutes later, with a warm smile on her face. "Ready?"

"As I'll ever be," Hermione said, laughing nervously.

The students started to pile in and Hermione exited the office and made her way to the lecture room, arranging her plans on the lectern. She cleared her throat several times before she began.

"Hello everyone, I'm Hermione Granger. I'm sure you've all seen me sitting and observing your classes from the corner for the last two months, so I hope you're not seeing me for the first time," Hermione laughed again, a nervous hiccup erupting at the same time. She cleared her throat and continued, "For the next month or so, I will be teaching you Arithmancy. I will be teaching you the fundamentals of Arithmancy, along the theory of Numerology. By the end of my course I hope that you will be able to tell the difference between theorems and explain each of the 32 theorems to me in detail."

As she was talking, she looked around at the students. Not one of them seemed to be very enticed by her monologue, nor were many even paying attention. She immediately singled out three students. There was the Draco Malfoy of the Slytherin side: the tall, pointed figure with cronies on his side, not really paying attention but still having the brain not to disrupt the class. He obviously had connections and thought himself rather cool, for he was laughing discreetly at a joke he had just told. Then there was the Ron Weasley – the nice Gryffindor boy who hadn't a clue about Arithmancy or any clue why he was even taking this course. He was twirling his quill between his fingers, humming to himself. Then last Hermione saw herself in a Slytherin girl. This girl was sitting up straight and on the edge of her seat, with an automatic quill that took note of everything Hermione said. She looked so interested in everything going on around the room that Hermione thought she might burst.

Seeing these three students made Hermione realize she couldn't go through this again. She couldn't go through school again. She was a learner, not a teacher. She didn't want to be teaching kids, who didn't even pay attention to her, save for one excited girl in the front row. She didn't want to teach undeserving kids. She wanted to get out there and make a difference on the Wizarding world, and she couldn't do that by teaching the theories of Numerology to uninterested kids.

Hermione stopped talking. Her long pause puzzled the class, as well as Professor Vector. Professor Vector was observing from her desk by the window and was frowning slightly at Hermione. Hermione's mouth was still open from the last word she'd said.

This pause was crucial. It was in this pause, in this moment, that Hermione threw her dream out the window.

"I'm sorry," Hermione stuttered, "I can't do this anymore."

She grabbed her things and ran out of the room, leaving a shocked class behind. She heard Professor Vector call out her name and the rest of the students ask what was going on, but she kept running. She ran all the way across the castle length to Professor McGonagall's office, out of breath.

Professor McGonagall looked up from the notes she had been writing, confused as to why a breathless and scared looking Hermione Granger was standing in front of her, leaning over the catch her breath.

"Miss Granger?"

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Professor, but this is urgent," Hermione pleaded.

Professor McGonagall conjured up a chair in front of her desk and motioned for Hermione to sit down. "What is the meaning of this?"

"I…I…" Hermione struggled to say. She finally took a deep breath and gained the courage she needed to do what she was about to do. "I'd like to resign."

Professor McGonagall's eyebrows shot up until they were lost in her hairline. "My dear girl, why? You were doing so well according to Professor Vector, and I believe today was supposed to be your first day teaching the class."

Hermione looked down at her feet, "I thought I wanted to be an Arithmancy Professor. I made this decision in my 7th year, and I was just so set on it. I loved Arithmancy, it was my best subject, and numbers always fascinated me. I liked working with money and of course my original thought was to work at Gringotts, but I was so afraid to leave Hogwarts. I was afraid of the war and all I wanted was to stay as close to Hogwarts as I could. But after the war was over, I realized I could live away from Hogwarts. Once Voldemort was really gone, I didn't feel scared anymore. I wouldn't have come back here to be a teacher but I had no back-up. I didn't know what to do with myself.

"So I moved to Edinburgh, away from my friends and family and I made due. I've been here for over three years and I've managed to make due. I went through the Ministry-approved training for a year and half, I took courses and I did studies abroad all in the hopes of becoming half of what Professor Vector is. But today, when I spoke in front of those students, ready to begin my first lesson, I realized it wasn't what I wanted. I want to do something that will directly benefit the Wizarding society. I want to forge connections between Wizards and Muggles, I want to travel and do business work. I want something that doesn't exist."

Throughout this speech, Professor McGonagall was politely quiet, listening to what Hermione said. She replied to Hermione, "But it does exist. There is one job that includes all the attributes you listed, and you'd be perfect for it. The Department of Muggle Relations is looking for a Head of Department – poor Riegelwood retired last month when his wife took fatally ill – and it addresses all of which you're looking for. You would be working with other Ministries across the continent for magical and Muggle cooperation. You would meet monthly with the other heads of Muggle Relations across Europe and another meeting with the Muggle Prime Minister of the United Kingdom. I think you would be a perfect addition to this Department. You are hardworking and have a long list of experience with international relations, and have always displayed exemplary work in anything you choose to do. If you're willing to apply for this position, I would be more than happy to write a letter of recommendation. It would be most effective, as the head of the Employment department was a student of mine years ago. She still listens to everything I say." Professor McGonagall was smiling wickedly.

Hermione's heart was caught in her throat, "Professor! You have no idea how much this would mean to me. This position sounds perfect and includes everything I'm interested in. I want you to know how grateful I am for this."

Professor McGonagall said, "I'd better start on your letter of recommendation. I'm sad to see you leave, Miss Granger, but as someone who has watched you grow all these years, my personal advice is to take this job. I know it is right for you, and I wish you all the happiness and success in the future."

Hermione surprised Professor McGonagall by giving her a hug. Professor McGonagall was stiff for a second, but eventually put her arms around the girl, squeezing her quickly. She returned to her usual brisk manner as Hermione left the room, but there was a warm glint in her eye. She sat down at her desk again, and began to write a letter of recommendation that would knock the socks off of anyone who read it. Professor McGonagall was determined to see Hermione Granger as the Head of that department.

* * *

After explaining and apologizing to Professor Vector, and also saying her warm goodbyes and regards, Hermione Apparated back to her apartment, feeling light and free. She knew Padma wouldn't be home as it was only a little past 2, but she suspected Padma had been home for her lunch break earlier as she found a new note.

_Hermione,_

_William asked me out on a date this morning! He told me he had liked me for almost a year and was just too afraid to do anything about it. When he heard I might like him too he decided to chance it and ask me out. He's taking me to a swank restaurant tonight. I won't be home for dinner but I'll see you tonight! I'm so excited!_

_Padma_

Hermione decided today was possibly one of the greatest days of her life. She was unbelievably excited about her possible new job at the Ministry. It sounded perfect. Traveling. Working with other countries. Forging relations between Muggles and Wizards. Absolutely perfect.

She wrote letters to both Harry and Ron, telling them both of her exciting news. She also told them if she got the job she'd be moving back to London, most likely. She figured Harry or Ron would tell Ginny and the rest, so she didn't worry about writing an extra letter for everyone.

She spent the rest of the day unwinding, vegging out on the sofa, and reading. She took a nap between 6 and 9:30 in the evening. At 10:30 Padma walked in through the front door, walking in an almost dream-like state.

"Tell me all about it!" Hermione cried happily, making room for Padma on the sofa.

Padma plopped herself down, sighing happily. "It was absolutely perfect. He took me to a beautiful restaurant and we talked all night. We have so much in common! But not so much that it becomes boring. It was just right. We went for a walk by the lake and he walked me home and kissed me good-night!"

Hermione was so happy for Padma. She was glad they were both having a great day. She was excited to tell Padma about what happened today, but suddenly realized that if she moved back to London, she'd be leaving Padma all alone in this apartment.

Padma stopped smiling suddenly. At the same time she and Hermione said, "I have some bad news, though."

Padma stopped Hermione, "Me first. I know that William and I have only been on one date, but we really connected. I felt like I'd known him forever and I know he felt the same way. Right after he kissed me he handed me a key to his apartment and asked me to move in with him. I know it's sudden, but I was really considering it. I don't want to leave you by yourself though; I know this isn't a cheap apartment to pay for."

Hermione's face brightened, "This works out perfectly! Padma I quit my job today! Oh don't look at me like that; I really did it for myself. I wouldn't have been happy being a teacher for the rest of my life. Professor McGonagall is referring me for a Ministry job in Muggle Relations. If I get the job then I'll have to move back to London."

"That's wonderful, Hermione! This job sounds perfect for you," Padma said, beaming, "So if you get the job, I guess we'll be selling this place?"

Hermione nodded slowly, "We've had so much fun living together, Padma. You've become one of my best friends in the whole world."

"And I'm not going anywhere. You, however, are. That doesn't mean we won't still be friends, because if you move back to London and suddenly lose touch with me I will most certainly kick your arse," Padma said, hugging Hermione.

"Well I haven't even gotten the job yet," reminded Hermione.

Padma tugged on Hermione's ear, bringing her face close, "You know you're going to get it. And when you do, we're not going to say good-bye. We're going to say see you later, because we will. Different postal codes are not going to keep us apart."


	10. A Lack of Socks on Doorknobs

**Author's Note: **So am I correct in thinking I have only one reader? I only have one review right now, and I'm already 10 chapters in to this. It's a bit depressing, knowing no one is reading. OR MAYBE THERE ARE PEOPLE READING AND JUST NOT REVIEWING. Seriously guy(s), I like reviews. They boost my self-esteem and let me know I'm not writing for a non-existent audience. Be a doll and click that 'Submit Review' button at the bottom.

* * *

It was an unusual feeling, not having to wake up early to get to work on time. Hermione basked in the sunlight that shone through her bedroom window, enjoying the feel of not being rushed. She felt like she was always rushing to get somewhere or get something done. Not having to be somewhere at a specific time was a rare luxury.

When she woke just before noon, she owled a letter to the Ministry, informing them of her interest in the Department of Muggle Relations, and asking them for further information about applying. Almost two hours later, a Ministry owl appeared at her window, holding a very large white envelope in its beak.

It read,

_Dear Miss Hermione Granger,_

_We sincerely appreciate your interest in the Head position for the Department of Muggle Relations. As you have no doubt been informed, this has been a most difficult position to fill since the unfortunate departure of Winslow Riegelwood._

_We are delighted to hear you have much experience. I received an extraordinary letter of recommendation from Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Personally speaking, I trust Minerva's judgment of character._

_Permitting, I have scheduled a meeting for you and I to go over your application and credentials for the 8th of January, at 11 in the morning. Please reply as soon as possible if you are unable to attend._

_Also, if you will be in London on the 7th, it would be my honor to invite you to a Ministry gala to benefit the children of St. Mungo's. All proceeds will be given to charity in the hopes of finding cures for permanent maladies. I have enclosed a printed invitation if you'd like to attend. I will be there, and it would be lovely to meet you in an informal setting._

_Looking forward to meeting you,_

_Orlinda Rawlins, Head of the Department of Ministry Employment._

Replying that the 8th of January would be a marvelous date, Hermione sent the Ministry owl off into the sky for its return flight. She worried about how she would get to London. Portkey tickets were expensive, and as she'd just spent the last of her free money on the Portkey ticket to London and Christmas presents for everyone, Hermione wasn't sure what to do. She was determined not to ask Harry or anyone else for help.

At around 3:30, she remembered Colin Creevey would be back in Edinburgh at 4. She Apparated to his apartment, letting herself in. She waited around for a while, looking at some of his new photographs on the walls, and finally at a quarter past Colin Apparated into the room.

"Surprise!" Hermione called, giving him a hug.

"Blimey, Hermione, you scared me!" Colin gasped, putting his luggage down. "How long have you been here?"

"Only a half hour. My apartment was starting to get very boring," Hermione sighed.

Colin narrowed his eyes, "Are you sick? Why aren't you at Hogwarts?"

Hermione looked away and mumbled quickly, "IquitmyjobandImightbemovingbacktoLondon."

"I'm sorry? What was that?" Colin said, hoping he hadn't heard her say what he thought he heard her say.

Hermione sighed again, sitting down on his couch, "Sit down, Colin, I've got lots to tell you."

"That's uncharacteristically impulsive of you, Hermione. You just decided to quit your job on the spot?" asked Colin, after Hermione had told him the events of yesterday. He was nibbling on the treacle tarts Hermione had brought with her, his feet tucked underneath him.

"I think subconsciously I always knew I was going to quit eventually," said Hermione thoughtfully, "But when I finally got up there are started talking, it just kind of happened, like something snapped inside my head. I realized I couldn't possibly be tucked away in Edinburgh for the rest of my life, when my heart, my friends, and my family were in London."

"When do you find out if you got the job?" asked Colin.

Hermione frowned, "Well, I've got a meeting with Orlinda Rawlins of the Employment office on the 8th of January. She sounded pleased about my interest in the position, so I hope it will go well."

"How are you getting to London? I'm going to be in London from the 4th to the 12th if you'd like to come with me," offered Colin, "I've got a professional shoot coming up for the Bulgarian team in London. They just won their last match against Spain so they've a closer shot of going to the Quidditch Cup in the summer. I might be shooting Ron's game in Cornwall too, if you want to stick around for that."

"Oh, I'd appreciate that, Colin!" thanked Hermione, "Are you going by Portkey?"

Colin shook his head, "Nah, I thought I'd drive my car up. I bought it for a reason and I never really use it, since I'm always traveling long distance. I thought a nice, scenic route to London would be lovely."

"It does sound lovely," Hermione agreed, "It's been a while since I've been in a car. Mum and dad are always trying to convince me to buy an automobile, but I haven't the money or the time for one."

"Oh, I forgot to thank you for the Christmas present! I've needed new camera lenses and the ones you bought were absolutely perfect!" Colin said, pecking Hermione's cheek.

"It was nothing, Colin," Hermione smiled, "And thanks for yours, as well! I can't believe I forgot to ask how the United States was. Was it fun?"

Colin grinned devilishly, "Oh, very. You wouldn't believe how eager those American girls are. They hear a British accent and go all sorts of crazy, just begging for a good shag."

Hermione thumped him on the arm, laughing, "Colin! You're such a little pervert."

"I prefer the term kinky. I experimented a lot over there," Colin replied smartly, "They've got so many weird, little toys…"

"Colin!" Hermione cried again.

"Don't knock it till you've tried it, Hermione," Colin sniggered.

Hermione looked away, blushing to the roots of her hair.

"C'mon, Hermione, I didn't mean it," Colin said, putting his arm around her. "Sex isn't all that great, anyways."

"According to everyone else it is," replied Hermione, "But I don't really mind. It'll happen eventually."

Colin chuckled, "Sometimes I swear you're an 80-year old woman. No one has quite the same mindset as you do."

* * *

The following days passed slowly for Hermione. Each morning she awoke at whatever hour she pleased, spent some time reading, and then spent the rest of the day with Colin. Padma was almost always working, and when she wasn't she was spending her time with William. She stayed at his place overnight once during the week, as a "test run."

Padma brought William over for dinner one night so Hermione could meet him at last, and Hermione approved. William cooked dinner and was a fantastic cook, as well. He was polite, intelligent, handsome, and the perfect match for Padma. Hermione felt like this relationship would last for a long time, if not forever.

Her days with Colin were filled with frivolity and carelessness. Colin had the effect on Hermione which made her forget her worries and feel like a child. They played in the park down the street from Hermione's apartment, went to lunch at the Corner Café, and enjoyed doing Muggle things. It had been years since either Colin or Hermione had been to a cinema, and they decided it was time to go.

Hermione was getting increasingly nervous about applying to the Ministry. She had no idea what credentials, referrals, or experience she would need in order to get the job. She studied up on the Department of Muggle Relations to no avail. The Ministry pamphlet had very little to say on that particular department, choosing instead to go into detail on the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and the Department of International Magical Cooperation, of which Percy Weasley was now the Head.

Another of which Hermione was completely dubious was why she was being referred for the Head of a department. Surely someone with more experience and working years should have the honor of becoming Head of the department? She had the slight notion that perhaps no one else was given the Head job because there weren't very many people working for or interested in the Department of Muggle Relations. She sincerely hoped this wasn't the case.

"Is this all you're bringing?" Colin asked her, putting the last of his bags into the trunk of his green car.

Hermione looked down at the two bags at her feet, frowning, "This should be enough, shouldn't it? I only need a few simple outfits, a professional looking outfit for my interview, and a fancy set of dress robes for the Gala."

"If you say so," said Colin, lifting her bags in to the car and finally closing the trunk behind them. "All set? You've said good-bye to Padma and all that?"

Hermione nodded, "She's going to stay at William's all this week."

"Getting pretty serious, eh?" said Colin, his brows furrowing, "Are you sure this guy is legit? I'd hate for Padma to get herself infatuated with a bad news bear."

"She'll be fine," Hermione snorted, "I didn't know you were so sensitive, Colin."

"I'm not!" Colin exclaimed, affronted, "Now get in the car before I throw you in there myself."

Hermione had conveniently neglected to tell Harry, Ron, or Ginny that she was coming to London for a week, hoping to surprise them.

The drive to London was pleasant and enjoyable. Hermione and Colin took turns driving and enjoying the scenery. They stopped at the seaside and took pictures while enjoying chips. Colin's Polaroid printed moving pictures, and he gave many of them to Hermione as keepsakes.

They arrived in London a little past 11 at night, and Hermione was snoozing in the passenger's seat. Being the deep sleeper that she was, Colin had to scream and throttle her to wake her up. He dropped her in front of Ginny's townhouse, they hugged good-bye and Hermione went inside.

Hermione crept up the stairs when she saw that Ginny was not in the kitchen or the sitting room, and tip-toed to Ginny's bedroom. The door was slightly ajar and there was a creaking noise, which Hermione assumed was the sound of her feet on the wooden floor. Holding her breath, she jumped through the doorway and yelled out, "Surprise!"

Surprise indeed. She hadn't expected to see Harry and Ginny completely naked, going at it full speed. Harry pulled out of Ginny like whiplash and covered himself with the comforter, horrified. Ginny gasped and fell out of bed, frantically searching for any piece of clothing.

Hermione gaped at them, "I'm so sorry! Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry!" She ran out of the room down into the kitchen, wanting to die from embarrassment. She couldn't believe she had just witnessed two of her best friends _going at it_. Hermione, the very poster-child for prudery, had always had the illusions of people waiting until marriage or at the very least locking their doors when they were having intercourse. She knew, of course, that neither Harry nor Ginny were virgins before tonight, that they had enjoyed sexual intercourse plenty of times before tonight, but she couldn't believe she had actually walked in on them.

Ten minutes later Ginny came downstairs, her hair disheveled, wearing a large button down shirt and a pair of shorts. Clearly the shirt belonged to Harry. She was red in the face and couldn't quite figure out what to say, as her mouth kept opening and closing every few seconds.

"This is awkward," she finally noted, still blushing and looking at the floor.

Hermione calmed herself. "Don't be embarrassed, Ginny. You and Harry are engaged and have every right to have sex whenever you like."

"No, not that. I mean, you've never … this is the first time you've … seen …" Ginny trailed off hopelessly.

Hermione reddened. "Oh. Yes. Well, it had to happen some time."

Ginny smiled wryly at Hermione, "You have a peculiar way of thinking, Hermione."

There was another awkward silence in which Ginny played with the end of her shirt. Finally she asked, "What are you doing here, anyhow?"

"Oh, right," Hermione said, coming out of her reverie, "I don't know if you know but I'm applying for a job at the Ministry. I have an interview on the 8th and a gala on the 7th. Colin drove me up."

"Yes, I remember Harry telling me. I was so surprised," said Ginny, "And you have a gala?"

"It's a benefit for St. Mungo's," explained Hermione, "It's supposedly a very fancy affair. I thought I'd wear the robes Malfoy bought me."

"I'm sorry?" Ginny stopped, "That who bought you?"

"I ran into Draco Malfoy at the Ministry when I was here last. By complete freak accident, he ripped the seems of my new dress robes from Madam Malkin's. He was decent enough to offer to replace them from Gladrags."

"You ran into Malfoy!" exclaimed Ginny, "And you didn't even tell me! And he bought you robes from _Gladrags_ – you know how expensive that place is?"

Hermione nodded, "I did feel a little bad, but he really doesn't have any regard for money. He lives such a decadent lifestyle."

"Can I see the robes?" Ginny asked shyly.

Hermione went to fetch the box with her new robes in them from the hallway. In all honesty, Hermione hadn't even had time to have a good look at them. All she knew was that they were coral pink.

"Oh it's beautiful!" Ginny cried, "I can't believe Malfoy picked these out, he's got some good taste. This will look gorgeous on you. And what's that! Is that a Muggle dress?"

Ginny pulled out the correlating Muggle dress. It was knee-length and had a flowing skirt with a dark pink ribbon around the waist. It had thick straps that covered up until her shoulder, and had far too plunging a neckline for Hermione's tastes.

"You know what I think?" Ginny asked, "I think Malfoy is bloody brilliant for buying this. You had to wear it to that Gala, forget about the robes! You can just claim you wore a Muggle dress because you're excited to apply for a Muggle-related job. Clever, eh?"

"Look at this neckline!" Hermione protested.

Ginny looked at it sideways, skeptical. The neckline went deep enough to expose the sternum. "Oh, I see! It's magicked! Look at the seems here; it's magicked so it'll stay sticking to your skin. This way you'll never accidentally…slip out."

Hermione blushed. "So it's not too risqué?"

Ginny smiled at her, a glint in her eye. "Of course not! You'll make every man's jaw drop. And I have the perfect shoes for you."

"Thanks, Gin," said Hermione, "Where's Harry?"

Ginny rolled her eyes, "He's too chicken to come downstairs. I kept telling him you didn't see his willy but he's still too embarrassed to come down. You probably won't see him until tomorrow morning, and even then he'll be completely awkward. You know how modest he is."

Ginny settled Hermione in to a guestroom on the first floor, and after assuring her she wasn't intruding, Ginny returned to Harry upstairs. It could have been her imagination, but Hermione could have sworn she heard more creaking and the occasional moan elicit from upstairs. Blushing deeply again, Hermione turned on her side and attempted to sleep.


	11. Friday Night's Alright For Drinking

**Author's Note:**

**cerealobsessed: **I think I've been fairly good about updating regularly. I update everyday, sometimes twice a day. I know how you feel, whenever I'm reading a work-in-progress I always get frustrated having to wait for chapters, but please remember I have schoolwork and other mandatory things, as well. I will try to update everyday or every other day, so please bear with me! I'm glad you're still reading.

**Moonstar-75: **Thank you so much for your review! I know a lot of people hate hearing constructive criticism and get all defensive, but I appreciate your input and will take your advice into consideration. I know my dialogue still needs a lot of work. Sometimes when I'm writing I consciously know I'm writing unrealistic dialogue – that no one really speaks with such detail or correct grammar but my organizational skills really suck. I'm working on putting more detail where detail should be, and less where it's unnecessary. I personally blame my English Honors class. I just finished reading _The Red Badge of Courage_, and all of Stephen Crane's excruciating detail must be rubbing off on me. And as for the severe lack of interaction between Draco and Hermione, well, I wanted this fic to be slow. I didn't want to get straight into their relationship and suddenly have nothing left to write. This is first and foremost a fic about Hermione and her life, which just happens to include a relationship with Draco Malfoy in the future. Once again, thanks for your review and I hope you enjoy the rest of the chapters to come!

* * *

"I'm definitely not wearing this," said Hermione firmly, already rushing back into the bathroom to change out of the ridiculously revealing dress. 

Ginny halted her by putting her arm out in front of the bathroom door, "Don't make me do something I'll regret, Hermione."

Hermione raised her eyebrows at her, as if daring her to continue. "I'm not comfortable with this! Look at this neckline; look at how thin this fabric is! I don't want Orlinda Rawlins's first impression of be to be a sluttish thing."

Ginny giggled, "How did you ever get through Hogwarts being such a bloody prude? Honestly, Hermione, you must be seeing something completely different from me because this dress is not risqué in the least. Trust me."

Hermione examined herself once again in the door length mirror, turning from side to side. In all honestly, she had to admit she looked pretty decent. Her body did, at any rate. Hermione had lost her baby fat since school and had taken to running a few times a week after she realized how ridiculously weak and out of shape she was. She had never liked sports or anything remotely physical, but running made her feel good. In that cliché way, running let her unwind and burn off calories at the same time.

"What's this?" asked Ginny, holding up the gift box that came with the dress robes.

"It was a complimentary gift box from Gladrags. They give it to every first-time customer," explained Hermione.

"Look at all this stuff!" Ginny exclaimed. She help up different perfume samples and spritzed each into the air, taking in the intoxicatingly sweet scent.

"Do you think I should use some of these things?" Hermione asked apprehensively.

"Well, of course!" laughed Ginny, "I can't think of a better occasion for you to try these out. C'mon, I'll help you."

* * *

Hermione descended Ginny's staircase, trying to get a feel for the heels she was wearing. Hermione had never worn heels this high before. Her hair was swept back nicely, leaving out stray bangs in the front. Ginny worked her magic and managed to soften Hermione's hair into elegant curls, then swept them back into a delicately messy bun. She preferred not to attack Hermione's face with obnoxiously colored make-up, and instead went for clean and simple approach. Hermione's cheekbones were caked prettily with warm pink blush, simple coral pink lipstick, and light brown glitter on her eyelids which changed color – from pink to brown to pink again. 

Harry was sitting on a wooden-backed chair, drinking a butterbeer when Hermione greeted him. There was that awkward pause before Hermione blurted, "I didn't see your penis, Harry."

Harry choked on his drink and Hermione blushed four shades of crimson, surprised at her own bluntness.

"Well, that's, uh… that's good," stuttered Harry. "Awkwardness over?"

"Over," confirmed Hermione, sighing with relief.

"You look very pretty," Harry commented.

"Thank you! I wish you were coming with me," Hermione said.

Harry shook his head, "I've been to enough Ministry galas. They're just out to brainwash you and steal your money. You know less than half of the profit made at these galas goes to the actual charity, and the rest goes to the Ministry's budget, so watch how much you contribute tonight."

"Alright cynic, I'll keep that in mind," grinned Hermione, reaching into the hallway closet for her scarf and overcoat.

Ginny rushed downstairs with a flower in hand, "Here! I've bewitched it so it won't die and it'll stay in your hair. I think it'll go with your dress nicely." Ginny clasped the flower into Hermione's hair and stepped back to admire her handiwork. "Damn, I'm good."

Hermione laughed. "Well I guess I'd better Apparate. Don't forget to lock your bedroom door tonight!"

Just as Ginny and Harry started to blush guiltily Hermione Apparated out of the hallway, flew through space and time, and came to in the reception room at the Concord – an established Wizard hotel and party hall. Everything was so beautifully decorated. There were dangling chandeliers, floating blue fairies, glittering lights, enchanted snow flakes, and a live orchestra playing toward the front of the hall. Hermione looked around, amazed and glad that she had come.

Not many people had arrived yet, choosing instead to be fashionably late, so Hermione sat herself at a table near the orchestra and took out a pad and began to take notes. Notes on behavior, clothing, conversation topics, anything so Hermione would know what was expected of her.

"Hermione Granger!" someone called.

Turning, Hermione saw the exact image of Padma Patil, except that this was no doubt her twin sister, Parvati. Parvati was wearing a stylish blue set of dress robes with a low-cut neck and slit going up to her thigh on the side.

"Parvati! How've you been?" Hermione exclaimed, embracing her.

"Good, good! Padma owled me telling me to expect you," said Parvati, "So I've been keeping an eye out for you. You look beautiful!"

Hermione smiled shyly, "It's all Ginny's work, really."

"Care to put in a quote for the _Prophet_?" asked Parvati, conjuring a matching blue Quick Quotes Quill and notepad out of thin air. It hovered next to her face, the quill waiting expectantly for quotes to jot down.

Hermione sighed dramatically, "Well, alright. Just a quick interview so you can tell your boss you were actually working instead of partying and getting roaring drunk."

Parvati gave her an off-the-record smack on the shoulder and continued in a business-like manner, "Hermione Granger, you've recently applied for the position of Head of the Department of Muggle Relations."

"Yes, I have. I'm looking forward to my interview tomorrow morning with Orlinda Rawlins. She invited me here tonight so we could meet informally."

The quill wrote quickly and scratchily. Parvati went on, "How are you enjoying your first Ministry for Magic gala? Usually invitations are scarce unless you've lots of money to contribute or you work for the Ministry."

Hermione looked around the room, "I think it's a very extravagantly decorated hall. I've never been to the Concord before today, so it's a bit of a surprise. I think it will turn out to be a great night."

Parvati let the quill finish its last thought and then magicked it away, presumably back to her purse in the coatroom. "Thanks, Hermione! So, have you met very many people yet?"

"I haven't, actually. I don't know what Orlinda Rawlins looks like, but I wanted to meet her tonight. Could you point her out to me?"

"Sure," said Padma, craning her neck to look around, "I just saw her with the Minister not ten minutes ago. Oh! There she is! She's talking to Draco Malfoy by the wine fountain. Well, it was terrific seeing you Hermione, but I think I see my boss's wife glaring at me so I've got to run!"

With a quick kiss on the cheek, Parvati was off in search of another person to quote. Hermione heart sank when she saw Draco Malfoy talking to a pretty lady by the wine fountain. She really didn't want to let Malfoy see her in the dress that he'd bought. Deliberately taking her time, Hermione made her way across the hall towards Orlinda Rawlins and Malfoy.

She got herself a glass of wine which tasted almost poisonously sweet and smooth when it went down her throat, and tapped on Orlinda's shoulder. She turned towards Hermione, an unarmed smile on her face. Orlinda was younger than Hermione thought. She couldn't have been more than 35 years old, Hermione thought. Her hair was black and smooth, pulled over her right shoulder, leaving her left shoulder bare and irresistible.

"Hello," Hermione started, "My name is Hermione Granger. I'm not sure if you remember me bu –"

Orlinda cut her off, "Of course! It's good to meet you, Miss Granger! I wasn't sure when to expect you so I've been asking people every few minutes if they knew who you were and if they'd seen you. And might I say you look absolutely lovely tonight. Is that a Muggle dress?"

Orlinda talked quickly and fluidly, giving off a friendly vibe. Hermione glanced nervously at Malfoy, who had a customary smirk and a cold glint in his eye. He was waiting for what she'd say next, and he knew what she was going to say.

Hermione smiled coldly over Orlinda's shoulder at Malfoy and replied, "It is, yes. From a little shop in London. My best friend, Harry Potter, bought it for me."

That wiped the smirk off Malfoy's face. Now his face was set in a mutinous snarl, his teeth bared.

"Oh! I'd forgotten you're friends with dear Harry. He's a doll, isn't he? Yes, he is. Such a shame he couldn't make it tonight, but the no-fun-haver is convinced the Ministry's up to some no-good conspiracy," said Orlinda conversationally, laughing lightly. "And have you met Draco Malfoy? I'll dare say you have; you were in the same year at Hogwarts, I believe."

Orlinda pushed Malfoy forward, nudging him to extend his hand. He did, reluctantly so, and Hermione hesitated slightly before shaking his hand. His grip was strong and for a few seconds both were trying very hard to crush the other's fingers.

"Draco's not very chatty around new people," Orlinda said, pinching Malfoy's cheek teasingly. Malfoy winced. "He's a dear once you get to know him. He contributes the most out of anyone at these charities."

Malfoy said stiffly, "I would hardly call it a charity. The Ministry is so greedy for money they're willing to lie to unassuming patrons to get it."

"Don't be such a cynic, Draco!" admonished Orlinda, "We're all here for a fun night. Free drinks all night! Don't tell me you don't like the occasional drink, I still remember what happened last Christmas."

Malfoy paled, "Orlinda, let's talk about something else."

"What happened last Christmas?" Hermione enquired, genuinely curious. Malfoy glared daggers at her behind Orlinda's back.

Orlinda laughed loudly, "Oh, Draco could never handle his drink. Or maybe he can, but he consumes far too much of it sometimes. Last Christmas at _his own _party, he drank half of the wine bar and ended up vomiting on the Minister for Magic himself. Didn't forgive him for months afterward. Draco's a very peculiar drunk; you'd think he was mad. He cries and laughs and screams all within seconds of each other. It's a bit like watching a wonderful play."

Draco wrinkled his nose at Orlinda, "You're an awful, awful woman."

Orlinda waved him off and kissed his nose cutely. "Yes, I am, and there's the Minister! Got to run!" Turning to Hermione she said, "Hermione – may I call you Hermione? – come find me later tonight, we'll talk!"

Hermione stared at her feet and Malfoy fixed his tie. Finally Hermione said, "Well, I guess I'll just –"

"You think that was funny, do you?" spat Malfoy, cutting her off. "That little joke about the dress?"

Hermione was appalled, "I was only joking, Malfoy. I know you bought this and I'm grateful, but you must remember the reason you bought this. It's because you're a great klutzy prat and you tore my original dress robes."

"I made up for it by buying you robes three times as expensive, Mudblood," said Draco venomously, "And why are you wearing that dress? This is a Wizarding function."

"Don't call me a mudblood, Malfoy; you know I'm just as good as you are, blood be damned. I'm wearing this dress because Ginny made me. She obviously didn't realize how horribly revealing it was."

Malfoy automatically looked at her body, his eyes stopping right at the neckline and her chest. Hermione crossed her arms over her waist, attempting to cover her chest, but it only made her breasts bulge out more. Malfoy was still starting.

Hermione smacked his shoulder, making his eyes snap up to her face. "What do you think you're looking at, pervert?"

"I'm not a pervert, Granger; I'm just a mortal male with hormones who can't help it if a bloody horrible person like you has an appealing physique."

Hermione was confused, wondering how she should retort. Malfoy had carefully dressed up a compliment with an insult, so she was unsure of which to respond – the compliment or the insult? She opened her mouth and then shut it again. Instead she rolled her eyes and huffed, and stomped away after she got another drink. A strong drink.

She slammed into a tall, muscular man. She heard Malfoy snicker wickedly behind her and she cursed herself for being so uncoordinated. She looked up to apologize to the man and gasped, "Viktor!"

Viktor Krum, 6'4, was standing tall in front of her, apparently unsure of whom she was. He hadn't changed since she last saw him; he still looked surly and somewhat angry.

"Her-me-own!" Viktor exclaimed. Hermione sighed inwardly, irritated that he still couldn't pronounce her god damn name. "I am seeing you after a long time! You look good."

Hermione blushed lightly, "Thank you, Viktor, you're looking well yourself! You're here for the Quidditch shoot, right? Colin Creevey told me."

"Yes, I am," said Viktor slowly, "The Minister has invited our whole team tonight, he is most kind. I am here vith my girlfriend, Ana. I vont you to meet her, please."

Ana was stunning. She was tall, had thick black hair and pale, clear skin with the most beautiful light blue eyes. She had heavy-lidded eyes like Viktor's. Hermione felt a small pang of jealousy that Viktor had moved on already and was with one of the most beautiful girls Hermione had ever seen.

"It's nice to meet you," said Hermione politely, "You're very pretty."

Ana laughed lightly. Hermione's face tightened – even her laugh was delicate and pretty sounding. "You are kind, I thank you."

"Are you here with Draco Malfoy, Herm-own-ninny?" asked Viktor, looking over Hermione's shoulder.

Hermione, startled, looked behind her. Draco Malfoy was standing in close proximity to her, and was previously looking at some women across the hall until he heard Viktor mention his name. He looked confusedly at Hermione, and then at Viktor. "Sorry?"

"You are vith Herm-own-ninny?" Viktor restated.

Draco looked taken aback, "What the he –"

"Yes," said Hermione quietly. Draco stared at her, his mouth hanging from his jaw.

"I am glad you haff moved on, Herm-own-me," said Viktor, smiling awkwardly. "Ve vill keep in touch, I hope."

With that, he and Ana left arm in arm.

Hermione bit her lip, looking at Malfoy. Surprisingly he didn't look so mad. He almost had a happy look about him.

He said, "Self-preservation, I understand. Although maybe I wasn't the best choice, because right now I'm going to saunter over to that beauty in the corner and chat her up, get her drunk, and most likely shag her in the coatroom. Good job, Granger, your half-wit ex-boyfriend will think you're an unattractive prude who can't even keep her "boyfriend's" eyes on her. Later, mudblood."

With that, he did indeed saunter over to a blond in the corner, take her hand and kiss it sweetly. The blond giggled, blushing deeply. Her friend, also a blond, giggled too. Malfoy laid on the charm, making sure the girl's drink was always full. Within 15 minutes the blond and Malfoy were exiting the room, the girl giggling madly and Malfoy staring at her backside ravenously. Hermione felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. She instinctively locked eyes with Viktor, who had just witnessed the whole spectacle from afar, and he looked back at her pityingly, as if to say, 'Poor Herm-own-ninny, you can't even attract your own boyfriend.'

Hermione grabbed another drink and downed it. Hot tears were prickling the back of her eyes, wanting out. She tried hard to hold them in. She grabbed another drink, and another, and another. Two hours later, she was drunk out of her mind. She had never been so intoxicated in her life. She usually only had one drink and only then on special occasions. She felt light and happy and airy as she walked to the coatroom to get her coat and leave. A nagging voice in the back of her mind was telling her she shouldn't attempt to Apparate when she was so intoxicated, but the bigger part of Hermione's brain was telling her to dance and sing and be happy.

Opening the door to the coat room, Hermione went inside and dropped her jaw. Malfoy, completely naked, was with a brunette girl. Brunette? Hadn't Malfoy gone in with a blond girl?

Hermione felt confused and her head started to spin. Malfoy snarled and yelled something at her but she couldn't understand him. There were bells ringing from somewhere, or maybe it was just coming from her own head. The room was spinning around her and voices incorporated with the colorful mess. She felt soft but firm hands on her shoulders and she saw that the brunette girl was looking at her peculiarly, asking if she was alright. The closeness of the girl's face was the last straw, and Hermione vomited horribly all over the girl. The girl shrieked, pushed Hermione away, and pulling her clothes on quickly, she ran from the room, disgusted.

Hermione fell to the ground and moaned. Her head hurt terribly and she didn't know what was going on. She began wailing, sobbing loudly, thinking of how humiliated she felt. Viktor Krum had a beautiful girlfriend and had also caught Hermione in a stupid lie. She humiliated herself and she was paying the price. She was stupid to have drunk so much.

"Granger?" Malfoy asked tentatively, looking at her as if he were afraid she'd bite him.

Hermione sobbed again, not caring anymore. "I'm so stupid. So, so stupid."

"What are you talking about? You're piss drunk and you're making a fool out of yourself," Malfoy admonished harshly.

Hermione wailed again, "I just wanted him to think I had it all. I wanted him to think I had a boyfriend, but I'm so, so stupid!"

"Granger, calm down."

"No!" Hermione screamed, wrenching at her hair.

"Stop that, you'll ruin your hair," Malfoy said, softer this time.

"So?! So what! I don't care anymore, I just want to cry and take a warm bath and cry some more."

"You're not making sense any more."

"I want a bath! I'm covered in vomit! I want a bath and a good cry."

Malfoy sighed, irritated. He quickly dressed himself and was headed towards the door, ready to leave the messed up Granger by herself when she whispered, "I hate my life. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it."

Malfoy stopped by the doorway and looked back at her. She really was a mess. Mascara was running down her cheeks, she had vomit all over her dress, her face was tear-stained and red, and her eyes were large and puffy. Despite her appearance, Malfoy's first thought was not 'What an ugly hag' – it was 'What should I do for her?'

Knowing he'd regret it later, Malfoy wiped her face with the handkerchief in his jacket pocket and lifted her into his arms, one arm under her knees and the other supporting her back. Hermione cradled against like a baby, saying "I just want a warm bath." She rested her head against his shoulder, falling asleep. With another heavy sigh, Malfoy Apparated them back to Malfoy Manor in Wiltshire.

He arrived in his master bedroom and laid her on his bed gently. He knew that Granger would probably kill him tomorrow for what he was about to do, but he was willing to live with the consequences. He peeled off her dress, holding his breath to keep from inhaling the stench of vomit. Hermione slept throughout the process, not stirring once. Malfoy had to admire her body. It was thin and perfectly proportioned. She was not wearing a bra, but she was wearing a nice pair of panties, Draco thought. He forced himself to keep his eyes away from Hermione's breasts. He did accidentally see them, and he didn't regret it at all. He transformed a quill on his bedside stand into a woman's night shirt and slipped it on her. He took out a pair of his boxer shorts from the armoire and magicked them on her legs, not trusting himself to do it. He knew he'd get distracted and end up doing something else entirely. After all, he never finished his shag. He smiled reminiscently; he had two good shags tonight, not including the last one with the brunette.

Feeling frustrated and bothered, Malfoy cast a quick glance in Hermione direction. She was still slumbering peacefully. Malfoy dropped his pants to his ankles and kneeled in front of Hermione. Looking at her the whole time, Malfoy began to move his fist up and down his shaft in a slow, steady motion. His breathing became ragged and quick, and he increased the speed of his fist. He was moving it faster and faster. His breath was short, and he could feel his release coming. He thought of Hermione's naked form that had been in front of him moments before. He thought of slamming Hermione into a wall, slapping her face painfully, and then kissing her. He wanted to hurt her and physically be with her at the same time. Malfoy grunted loudly and felt his release. Waves of pleasurable joy came over him, blinding him for a second.

He looked at Hermione again, still sleeping like a child. He walked up to her, spit in her face viciously, and then seconds later pulled the covers over her, cupping her face. He walked out the room and softly clicked the door shut.


	12. The Interview

Hermione was not a happy person when she woke up. She had a blinding headache and had no recollections of what had happened during the last 16 hours.

Finally opening her eyes and looking around her, she realized not of the surroundings was familiar to her. She was in a large black bed with silver comforters and pillows. The room itself was magnificent and large, with intricate details on the wood and side panels. The clothes on her body, she noted, were most definitely not hers. She had the rising suspicion that the shorts she was wearing were indeed men's boxers.

Surprisingly enough, Hermione wasn't frightened – merely curious. The room she was in was absolutely fantastic, the sun was shining – although the light hurt her eyes and caused her to groan – and she was wearing clothes that did not belong to her. Yep. Curious was the right word.

Taking her time in getting out of the bed, Hermione slowly made her way across the room to the large oak doors. Once in the hallway, she looked both ways, hoping for some indication of familiarity. None came to her, however.

Luckily she found a house-elf scurrying away in fear, and managed to stop her.

"Hello!" said Hermione brightly, her own cheery voice grating her nerves, "This may sound like an odd question, but where am I?"

The elf looked positively terrified. "Miss is in Malfoy Manor…Miss."

"I beg your pardon?" Hermione gasped.

The elf cowered over on herself, backing away slowly, "Malfoy Manor, Miss! Master Malfoy is wanting you in his study, Miss, and I is only passing along a message, but I is hearing Master Malfoy is not in a good mood today." With that, the elf scurried away, presumably towards to the kitchens.

Hermione just stood there for the better part of ten minutes, trying to convince herself she was dreaming. To recap, since she had woken up not twenty minutes ago, she had discovered she was in unfamiliar territory with no memory of what had happened since yesterday afternoon, and she was clearly wearing men's shorts and a woman's shirt which was most definitely not her own. Surreal.

Hermione made her way to the other side of the hall in the direction from which the elf had originally come, and knocked on the last door sharply.

True to the elf's word, Draco Malfoy did indeed open the door. His hair was disheveled and he was wearing a fitting black sweater with black trousers. Hermione thought he looked ravishing.

This was still the hangover talking.

"What…" began Hermione, "How…I don't even remember…elf…"

Malfoy stared at her dubiously, "Your powers of speech and perception are astounding. Simply astounding."

"Sod off, Malfoy," snapped Hermione, seating herself opposite of Malfoy's desk, and looking about her. "Care to explain what the hell I'm doing here?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes at her, causing Hermione's teeth to clench together. "Long story short, you couldn't hold down your liquor, you vomited over my amazing shag, and were such a mess that I couldn't just leave you on the coatroom floor."

"Oh," said Hermione, "So I have a hangover. I feel lousy."

"You look it too, rest assured," Malfoy supplied, not looking up at her from the paperwork scattered on the desk.

Hermione was taking this all rather well. Malfoy had expected screaming and demands and possibly even violence. Instead, she was sitting with a dazed look on her face, looking for all the world like a patient in a mental hospital.

Malfoy waved his wand absentmindedly and conjured up a goblet of steaming liquid, handing it to Hermione. When she looked at it suspiciously Malfoy drawled, "Pepper-Up Potion."

Hermione accepted the goblet, drinking graciously. She leaned back in the chair, slouching down, and sighed contentedly. She asked, "Do you have the time, by any chance?"

"Five to ten," said Malfoy, scratching notes on a piece of parchment. He held up the parchment, examined it, shook his head to signal he wasn't satisfied with it, and scratched on it again.

Hermione jumped out of her seat, dropping the goblet on the floor carelessly, and let out a howl. "Five to ten! _Five to ten!_" Hermione cried.

"…Yes," said Malfoy. He was quite startled, but wasn't really showing it. His only indication was a slight widening of the eyes. Then realization set in, "Your interview."

"I haven't any clothes – I don't even know whose clothes I'm wearing right now! – and I don't have time to go back to Ginny's to get clothes! Oh no! Ginny! She's probably been worried sick, wondering where I am! And what am I doing here!"

Malfoy stood abruptly and slapped her face firmly, only hard enough for her to stop screeching. She gaped at him in disbelief, and then punched him right in the nose. He doubled over, yelling obscenities, trying to wipe the blood from his face.

"Bloody mudblood!" roared Malfoy, "This is the thanks I get for taking you under my wing!"

"Malfoy, I have an interview in an hour! I have no clothes and no time to get any. I need to be there early so I can sign in and get a visitor's badge! Malfoy!" cried Hermione, running out of the study into the hallway.

"Stop!" yelled Malfoy after her, "I'll get you clothes, just stop!"

Hermione turned around, her eyes wide with worry and her hair flying around her. She followed him down a set of spiral stairs and into a room with large double-doors. The room was a bedroom – a master bedroom, at one point – which looked as though it hadn't been occupied in years.

Malfoy rummaged through a chest drawer and pulled out a pile of clothes, motioning for Hermione to choose from them.

"My mother's clothes; they're obviously no use to me, so go ahead," said Malfoy indifferently, looking away.

Hermione dove into the pile of clothing, emerging with a white oxford shirt, a blazer, a short gray skirt and a green tie. Slytherin colors. How unfitting.

Malfoy handed her a pair of black high-heeled pumps, asking if they would do.

"Those look a bit small…" Hermione started.

Malfoy sighed dramatically, saying, "And you call yourself a witch. I knew there was a reason why muggle-borns were inferior." Hermione didn't have the time to reply, instead letting him cast a spell to make the shoes larger.

She slipped them on quickly and ran into the adjacent bathroom, examining herself in the full length mirror.

She shrieked, "I look like I have a hangover! I have bags under my eyes, I'm pale as death, my hair is a mess, and my eyes are bloodshot." She tugged at her hair, wondering what to do.

She perked up, looking into Malfoy's eyes, "Do you use hair-gel of any kind?"

Malfoy raised his eyebrows at her, "Well I'm not going to lie to you. My hair doesn't naturally look this good."

Hermione wanted to comment that at the moment his hair wasn't particularly good-looking, being as it was so messy and sticking up in all different directions. Draco conjured his hair-products into the bathroom.

Hermione looked down at herself, "Please tell me I'm not wearing your boxers."

Malfoy didn't respond.

"I'm going to be very upset with you later. I'm probably going to kill you because you couldn't have gotten these clothes on me without taking my other clothes off first. Pervert."

She slammed the door in his face, changing frantically. She spritzed herself with Malfoy's cologne, put some quick gel in her hair to tame the curls and had no idea what to do with her face until Draco came into the bathroom again with a box of his mother's old make-up.

Hermione had no idea why he was being so helpful – or why he wasn't insulting her as much as he usually did. She had the sneaking suspicion something had happened last night that he wasn't telling her about. She was most certainly going to find out by the end of the today, she promised.

Before she flooed to the Ministry she hesitated and said, "Malfoy – thank you. For helping me this morning and looking after me last night. I'm not going to get emotional on you, but what you did was uncharacteristically decent of you and I really appreciate it." With that she surprised herself and Malfoy as well by hugging him quickly. He recoiled underneath her.

Seconds before she shouted "Ministry for Magic!" into the hearth, she turned again and said maliciously, "I want a detailed explanation of last night's happenings. You have not seen the last of me, Malfoy."

As soon as Hermione was gone, Malfoy hurled an expensive vase at the wall and let out a yell. He flopped down on the sofa and huffed with exasperation, feeling frustrated and confused.

He called out to the empty hallway, "Somebody get me a fucking Calming Draught!"

* * *

Several house-elves scurried in different directions.

Hermione was running down the hall of the 5th floor of the Ministry, trying to pin on her visitor's badge as she did so. The bloody prat of a security wizard had deliberately taken his time and interrogated her for the best part of 20 minutes before he let Hermione go. He claimed her wand was way passed its last inspection date, to which she indignantly protested, saying she had her wand inspected regularly like clockwork. She figured the security wizard was just plain bored was looking for some action.

She stopped outside of Orlinda Rawlins's office. She straightened her back and her skirt, fixed her hair quickly, and knocked on the door firmly.

"Come in!" called a cheery voice which belonged to Orlinda.

Hermione stepped in professionally, and walked over to Orlinda's desk, a smile on her face.

"Boy, you walk like a model, you do!" laughed Orlinda, "Please, please, have a seat."

Hermione sat opposite her, sitting straight and feeling quite nervous.

"Darling, don't look so nervous! I'm only going to ask some questions, go over the basic rules of the Ministry, stuff like that. Smile!"

Hermione let out a breath and made herself more comfortable, smiling gratefully, "Thank you. I'm sorry I'm so nervous but I've never had a professional interview before."

Orlinda nodded understandingly, "Most people I interview are a bit nervous, so it's only natural. I try to be casual and light about it. Creates a better atmosphere, you know."

Hermione greatly appreciated Orlinda's kind and laughing nature. It made her feel better; like she could connect with this woman. She hoped that if she got the job, she could be as light-hearted and accepting as Orlinda.

"Feeling alright?" asked Orlinda, "Ready to begin? I'm going to have to sound business-like, but just overlook that.

"So, firstly, why do you want the position of Head of the Department of Muggle Relations?"

Hermione thought for a second, choosing her words wisely. "I used to want to be a Professor in Arithmancy at Hogwarts. I was going through training until just after Christmas, but my first day of teaching I realized I didn't want it anymore. I've always been interested in contributing directly to society – both Muggle and Wizarding society. I'm a muggle-born, you see, so I've always felt connected to both parts of my life. I want to slowly educate the Muggle government about the Wizarding government and create an alliance of sorts, for peace and stability between both communities. I feel it would innovate the Muggle society and educate the Wizards who don't believe Muggles are worth the time."

"Good answer! And I believe you're currently living in Edinburgh? Should you get the job are you going to commute or will you relocate to London? I should warn you that the Ministry is a bit iffy about commuters, especially from as far as Scotland."

"I'd definitely relocate to London. This is my first home, with all my friends and family here. Should I get the job, I will probably live with my friend, Ginevra Weasley, until I can get a residence of my own," said Hermione.

"Ah, Ginny!" said Orlinda, "Oh, she's so cute. She comes in to the Ministry all the time to visit Harry. Heard they're engaged! Such an adorable couple." She cleared her throat and continued, "Do you have any past experience that would be of any use to the position you're applying for?"

Hermione was amazed at Orlinda's ability to change between formal and informal in a matter of seconds. She replied, "I've had training in international relations. It was part of my training for my Hogwarts position. I studied in Rome – at the Institute of Modern Wizardry – and I've also had personal travel experience. I'm a skilled diplomat – during the War I was the go-between for the Order and Hogwarts."

The rest of the interview continued smoothly. Orlinda would pause and off-the-record would chat with Hermione, then switch back to her questions. Orlinda thought that a straight question-and-answer interview would be boring, and much preferred a natural conversation every once in a while.

The interview ended with "What can you contribute to the Ministry for Magic?" and Hermione replied soundly.

Orlinda was stacking the parchment on which the interview was recorded and said nonchalantly, "Very good interview, Miss Granger. I liked your personality and the depth of your answers. You start work on Monday, but you'll have to attend a starting seminar to learn the ropes on Friday. Congratulations, you've got the job."

"I – what?"

Orlinda smiled. "Miss Granger, you had the job the minute I finished reading Minerva's letter. I just wanted a real interview so I could meet you and see what you were like. I see that you're an incredibly bright young woman with big hopes for the world. I'm here to help you see them accomplished."

Hermione beamed at Orlinda and grinned largely, "You can't imagine how much this means to me! I've been nervous all week, but I'm so excited. I can't wait to start work and I'll do whatever is expected of me and more!"

The first thing Hermione did when she closed the door of Orlinda's office and give a shout of joy and jump up and down. She laughed to herself, feeling giddy.

She Apparated straight to Ginny's house, rushing to her bedroom. She made sure to knock this time.

Ginny ran to the door and flung it open, "Hermione! Where have you _been_? I was so worried! I sent Harry to the Concord to look for you and you weren't there!"

Hermione apologized profusely. "Gin, I'm so sorry. I'm not even sure what happened. I drank too much and Malfoy ended up taking me to Malfoy Manor and he looked after me."

Ginny was shocked. "Malfoy? Draco "I'm the biggest arse" Malfoy? He actually took care of you? Blimey, that's incredible. I'd expect him to take advantage of your vulnerability and humiliate you in front of everyone."

"He didn't. At least not to my knowledge. I did, however, wake up wearing his boxers," Hermione said crossly, "If something happened without my knowledge or consent last night there will be hell to pay."

Ginny gaped at her, "You don't think he would…take advantage of you like _that_, would he? So help me God, I will beat him to a bloody pulp if he's as audacious as I think he is."

"No, no! I'm just saying," said Hermione, "Besides, Malfoy absolutely deplores me. He thinks I'm scum, remember? He wouldn't sleep with me if his life depended on it."

Ginny wasn't convinced. "You should go back to Malfoy Manor and give him a piece of your mind. Get the facts straight and all." She look at Hermione's clothes. "I've never seen those before, are they yours?"

Hermione looked up sheepishly. "They're Narcissa Malfoy's. Malfoy loaned me clothes this morning – I didn't have time to come back here before my interview."

"Your interview!" Ginny exclaimed, "Oh, I forgot! How did it go?"

"I got the job!" squealed Hermione, "I'm so excited, you have no idea! I start work on Monday but I've got to attend a seminar on Friday."

"Oh, Hermione, I'm so proud!" Ginny said, hugging Hermione. "Does this mean you're moving back to London?"

Hermione nodded her head, asking timidly, "Ginny, I haven't a place to stay right away, so –"

"You don't even have to ask, Hermione! You can stay with me as long as you like, I'd be delighted."

Hermione hugged her again, filled with relief and joy.

"Maybe you should go talk to Malfoy now?" Ginny suggested, shoving her towards the hearth.

Hermione sighed. "I suppose. I should go change out of these clothes so I can give them back, though."

She rushed downstairs to get her bag of clothes and changed quickly into regular Muggle clothing – jeans and a fitted blue sweater.

She reluctantly filled her hands with the green powder. Thrusting it into the hearth she exclaimed, "Malfoy Manor!"

She wiped the dust off her clothes, stepping out into the large marble hallway hesitantly. She had Narcissa's clothes in a bag and she realized it would be rude to return the clothes unwashed. She cast a quick _Scourgify _on them and placed them in the bag again. She wasn't sure which room she was in or where to go. She had only been in Narcissa's bedroom, the study, and Malfoy's bedroom when she was here earlier this morning.

She walked down the hallway, her heels clicking loudly against the marble. She hadn't an idea which direction to go, so she continued straight, looking for any indication of Malfoy or one of his house-elves. The thought of house-elves working for Malfoy made Hermione frown crossly. She would like to talk to the elves about how they felt about their current situation.

A cold voice interrupted her thoughts from behind her. "What are you doing here, Granger?"

Hermione stopped, refusing to turn around. "I have your mother's clothes." She turned on her heel slowly, looking into the gray eyes of Draco Malfoy. She held out the bag to him, but he stayed where he was.

She frowned. "Don't you want them back?"

"I don't need them," was his short reply.

"Malfoy, I can't just keep your mother's clothes," protested she.

Annoyed, he banished the bag in her hand to another room. "Was that all?"

"As a matter of fact, no," said Hermione, jutting out her chin defiantly. "You're going to tell me what happened last night. Now. And if you leave anything out – no matter how small or insignificant – you're going to regret it."

Malfoy had the nerve to grace her with his trademark smirk. Hermione snarled at him in response, her eyes set.

Malfoy motioned for her to follow him up a flight of stairs. She recognized the hallway as the one she'd been in that morning. He led her into his study and shut the door behind them.

Hermione took the seat she'd taken that morning, relaxing. Familiar territory. She knew this room and knew where the exit was should something unwanted happen.

Malfoy took a great deal in seating himself and beginning his version of events. He didn't say anything until Hermione tutted him. He glared sparingly at her and began.

"We were both at the Ministry Gala last night. I was talking to Orlinda Rawlins and you came up to speak with her. She excused herself after a few minutes to speak with the Minister, which left you and me. Usual pleasantries were exchanged –" Hermione snorted "– and you stormed away, running into Viktor Krum. The half-wit introduced his girlfriend to you, you got jealous and introduced me as your boyfriend, and I left you by yourself to pursue a fabulous looking blond. I shagged her, then shagged her friend – both in the coatroom – and while I was moving on to my next conquest you came into the coatroom piss-drunk and vomited all over the girl. She ran out and you were fell to the ground and started weeping like a pathetic thing. I pitied you and brought you back here."

Hermione was stuck on the part where she ran into Viktor Krum. "Viktor? I ran into Viktor? And he had a girlfriend?" When Malfoy nodded she continued in a small voice, "Was she pretty?"

Malfoy, never known to spare one's feelings, nodded enthusiastically and said, "Bloody sexy, she was. I couldn't believe she was with Viktor Krum, the ugly git."

Hermione didn't look at him, choosing instead to stare at the floor. "And after you brought me back here? I couldn't have changed myself."

Malfoy hesitated. He was walking on thin ice here. "I… laidyouonmybedandchangedyou."

Hermione looked up at him, shocked. "What did you see!" she hissed.

Malfoy wasn't looking at her anymore. "Well you weren't wearing a bra, which was bloody well not my fault."

Hermione howled, clutching her hair. "_Malfoy_!"

Malfoy was indignant. "Would you rather I left you in your dress covered in vomit? Or would you have wanted me to let a house-elf change you?"

Hermione cringed, imagining a small, cute house-elf seeing her naked form and snaking its hands over her body.

Malfoy's point was proven. "There you go."

Hermione got out of her chair, straightening her jeans. "Well, that settles it, I suppose."

Malfoy lifted himself out of his seat, following her to the door.

Hermione paused, her hand on the doorknob. She turned around abruptly and marched up to Malfoy. She smacked him in the face. Hard.

She tugged on his sweater, pulling his face close to hers. She could feel his breath on his face and their noses were almost touching. Malfoy looked straight into her eyes, revealing nothing.

"Tell no one about last night, and forget everything about what you saw," she hissed, glaring holes into his eyes. She released him and straightened his sweater, beaming. "I got the job by the way. Fantastic, isn't it?"

She winked at him and left him standing there.


	13. The Skeletons in the Closet

**Author's Note: **Woo, reviews! Oh, how I love reviews.

This chapter really isn't important in terms of Hermione's life, but it's got a lot of background information on Draco, and what he's been doing since the War.

Also, I mention a 'Tracey Davis' girl in this chapter. She is not made up, she is a canon character. Granted, she hasn't been mentioned in the books yet, but she is a Slytherin. She was on a list of students that JK Rowling made, which was revealed during the Harry Potter and Me interview.

**Draco's Appearance: **The Draco in my mind looks like this (img dot photobucket dot com / albums / v321 / heinzy12 / r4yh dot jpg). Yes, he looks slightly psychotic but I like that. Draco isn't some incredibly hunky tan buff guy. He really looks like this in my mind. This lovely portrait was drawn by Riikka Jantti.

I'm sorry the link looks so messed up but won't let me post a link. Just replace the dots with actual dots and remove the spaces.

* * *

Hermione's back ached terribly and she was dreading having to say goodbye to Padma. 

She had Portkeyed back to Edinburgh the morning after her interview – ticket courtesy of Harry, despite her better protests – and was currently moving her things. She wanted to be moved back to London with Ginny before her starting seminar on Friday.

Moving heavy boxes of books and clothing was proving to be difficult, painful, and tedious. Padma was too busy at work to be able to help, but had promised to be home in time for a goodbye dinner.

The moving process was complicated. Just for today, she had permission from the Ministry – more specifically Orlinda – to use one of their moving aids. The youth was rather pompous, liking to show off to Hermione. He was quite clumsy, often dropping things whenever he was trying to pull off a difficult trick. The only useful thing about him was that he was skilled in the art of long-distance Apparating; he could Apparate overseas, as far as Australia from London. He claimed it was from long, hard practice and special Ministry training.

However he had managed to acquire the necessary training, Hermione really didn't care, so long as he could efficiently move her things from one apartment to the other. His job was to Apparate her things to Ginny's house, while Hermione packed and stacked everything for him.

She was in a horrible mood, with her backache and the annoying 19-year-old. She knew she couldn't blame the boy for her irritability; she was simply nervous about relocating and starting a new life. Could she really move back to London? She was so used to the relative peace and quietness of Scotland that the noise and chaos of London seemed foreign to her. She was also rather nervous about her new job. The realization that she would be conducting Ministry officials underneath her and be in charge of Ministry relations with Muggles in the UK had only settled in that morning, leaving her blind with worry and anxiety. No amount of training could prepare her for this job, she thought.

The sound of something crashing interrupted her, bringing her out of her worries. She looked down to see the boy, Halsey, splayed on his back, groaning.

"What have you done?" she snapped impatiently.

The boy groaned again, clutching his knee. "Your bloody cat attacked me."

Hermione looked over at Crookshanks, her flat-faced ginger-haired cat. She said in a baby voice, "Crookshanks, you mean kitty, what did you do to the hard-working man?"

Crookshanks gave her a blank look and scurried away into the next room, not wanting to be scolded.

"Are you going to be alright?" she asked the boy, sighing exasperatedly. She wasn't done moving her things and if the only person in the room who could actually move her things from point A to B was injured, she'd have a much more difficult time moving.

He didn't answer her for a few minutes. "Yes, I'll be fine, I think. Knee pains shouldn't affect my Apparition."

"Good, well here's the next set of boxes ready to do," said Hermione, not bothering to stop and sympathize with Halsey. She was anxious to be rid of his company.

In self-defense, Hermione had to say she wasn't usually this unsympathetic. If anything, she had the most compassionate and caring soul this side of the Indian Ocean, although she had a peculiar way of showing it. She often dressed her sympathetic side with bossiness and pomposity to avoid being thought of as a sap.

Two hours later, Halsey was gone and the apartment looked bare. Most of the things around the apartment had been Hermione's; Padma was a very miser person and rarely spent money on collectibles. Most of Padma's things were in her room, anyhow. She always thought she'd be discomforting Hermione by keeping her things out in the common territory.

Hermione was enjoying the silence of having the apartment to herself and was sipping at her tea graciously. Crookshanks was curled at her feet and Rowin was out hunting, the night starting to fall.

Padma burst through the front door, breathless. "So sorry I'm late! I rushed home as soon as I could."

Hermione was staring out the window, lost in a reverie.

Padma said, "Anyone home?"

Hermione looked up, snapping out of space. "Sorry, Pad, I was just thinking."

"Well, quit thinking! We've got a goodbye dinner to have!"

Padma rushed into the kitchenette and set her wand to work, casting spells in different directions as pots and pans began to fill themselves with food and cook over the stove. Padma manually made a salad, talking to Hermione all the while.

They enjoyed a lovely meal, although the atmosphere was definitely not as happy. Both girls were undoubtedly thinking of their goodbye. Hermione had her own self-doubts to worry about on top of saying goodbye, and Padma was also worrying about moving in with her boyfriend, William.

"What's wrong, Hermione?" asked Padma. "You don't look well."

"I'm doing the right thing, aren't I?" asked Hermione hesitantly.

Padma was unsure to what she was referring. "What, you mean moving back to London?"

"I mean everything," Hermione sighed. "In the past week I've quit my job, gotten a new and much scarier one, and moved back to London. Things are happening so quickly, it just feels like I have no control over any of it."

"Well you don't, darling. You can't control what happens to you. There are certain things which you can control, and most times they're very small. Like what you're going to eat for breakfast everyday – you have control over that," said Padma pragmatically.

"What if I'm not ready? I can't just quit that job and move back expecting to still have a job at Hogwarts," stressed Hermione.

Padma looked at her sympathetically. "We do what we can and hope for the best. These are the times when we need to act, not think. Because who knows, maybe these changes happening in your life are for the best. Maybe you'll be happier or more successful. All you need to do is walk into that Ministry with your head held high and do your best. The rest will happen in due time."

Hermione laughed lightly, a tear rolling down her cheek. "When did you get to be so philosophical?"

Padma smiled wryly, "Maybe it's age. Maybe I've learned from everything that's happened to me. Or maybe I read too many Muggle magazines."

Hermione beamed. "I'm going to miss your sarcasm."

"Well, I'm not dying, love! I'm just going to be in a different city. We'll still visit and write and phone each other. I know how to use a telephone, thanks to you," said Padma, poking Hermione's shoulder.

"I'm glad I won't be leaving you by yourself in this apartment," said Hermione, looking around the place. "Is William's flat nice?"

Padma sipped her wine. "Very. He likes to incorporate Muggle and Wizarding technology – his mum was muggle-born – so it's a very handy place. Of course, he'll have to teach me how to use half of the things, but I look forward to it. He's so lovely."

Hermione grinned. "I'm happy you're happy."

"When will Miss Granger get herself a boy?" asked Padma, winking across the table at her.

Hermione thought hard. "There honestly hasn't been any romantic male interaction in a long while. The only man I've talked to outside of Colin, Harry, and Ron lately is Malfoy."

"That's right!" Padma remembered. "You haven't told me the whole Malfoy story. Go on, spill."

"Well there's not much to say…" said Hermione shyly, fingering the rim of her wine glass. When Padma gave her a look she reluctantly continued. "I've just seen him more in the last week than I have in the last 5 years. I hadn't seen him in so long that when I heard his name in the Portkey station I just didn't think – I ran to him and said hello, expecting some sincerity back, but I didn't get it. He hasn't changed all that much. He's just more mature, I suppose."

"Mature how?" asked Padma, curious.

Hermione had to think before she answered. How _had _Malfoy matured? "I suppose he thinks before he speaks and acts. Before he would just blurt the first insult that came to mind, but I think he's being a bit more responsible. He's obviously very well off – he's got those Portkey stations and he works at the Ministry, or so Orlinda says. I'm not quite sure what he does, but he definitely gets paid a lot. He works directly with Scrimgeour and his team of Wizards. Maybe I'll ask him if I ever run into him at the Ministry."

"I think I read about it in the _Prophet_," said Padma. "He correlates between the Muggle Prime Minister and the Ministry. His job is a bit like yours, I suppose, only he works to further both societies' economies, whereas you're work is mostly for political peace."

Hermione was shocked at this peace of news. "But Malfoy hates Muggles and anything to do with them! Why on earth would he work _with _them?"

Padma said knowingly, "Hermione, the world isn't just black and white. There are gray areas, and I think Malfoy's in there. He's not exactly bad – he wasn't on You-Know-Who's side in the war, after all – he's just an arse. My personal opinion is he's working with Muggles to further himself. The job pays well, he gets recognized in both societies – and most important – he can clear his name from the War suspect list. Working with Muggles is a complete anti-You-Know-Who move. No Death Eater would ever do that."

Everything Padma said was making sense to Hermione. It was self-preservation. It was also something Malfoy was capable of doing – not only that, but it was something expected of him. Malfoys, and Slytherins in general, were all about self-preservation. They were skilled in the art of deception and were very apt at sneaking out of a sticky situation. What Malfoy was doing was not only sneaky, but extremely clever. By working with Muggles, he was saving his family name, saving his own skin, and furthering himself with both societies. Hermione was impressed and horrified at the same time.

"What else do you know about Malfoy?" asked Hermione, genuinely interested now.

Padma opened her mouth to continue, but closed it. She gave Hermione a sly smile. "Why the sudden interest in Malfoy?"

Hermione could feel a light blush creeping up her neck, despite her best efforts to suppress it. She said stoically, "I just find his situation interesting. He went from hiding during the War to a mega-status billionaire overnight, it seems."

Padma giggled and said, "You forgot about his status as _Witch Weekly_'s Bachelor of the Year."

"Was he?" Hermione asked, aghast.

Nodding enthusiastically, Padma said, "Oh yes! I'm surprised you didn't know; you usually like to keep up with all the news magazines. He's been Bachelor # 1 for three years now."

Hermione was dumbfounded. How had she overlooked that in all the years she'd read _Witch Weekly_? She said, "Do you have a copy of one of those magazines, by any chance?"

Padma gave her that sly smile again, lifting herself easily out of the chair and disappearing in her room. She emerged 15 minutes later with a large stack of magazines and newspapers, as well as a thick portfolio that looked like it was from her work.

"What's all this?" Hermione asked, peering at the stack Padma dropped in front of her.

"This," said Padma "Is everything you need to know about Malfoy. These are the _Witch Weekly_ magazines that mention Malfoy, some _Prophet_ clippings about the Ministry which also include references to Malfoy, and his medical folder, which I really shouldn't be showing you."

"Why do you have his medical folder? Wouldn't he see a doctor at Mungo's?" asked Hermione, frowning as she picked up the thick folder.

"Malfoy's a paranoid little snit when it comes to his health," said Padma shrewdly. "His family has a history of insanity at a young age – they're actually still investing Lucius Malfoy's case, wondering if he wasn't clinically insane when he was alive.

"Anyhow, Malfoy doesn't trust St. Mungo's. Ever since that fiasco two years ago with his girlfriend, he's never set foot in there. He still contributes of course, as is expected of him, but he likes to come here for his medical inquiries and check-ups. I had the displeasure of treating him when he was last here."

Hermione's brows furrowed even more as she heard this new piece of information. She was still flipping through the folder when she asked, "What fiasco?"

Padma stopped, gasping as she flung her hand to her mouth. "Oh dear."

"What's wrong?" asked Hermione, slightly worried at this sudden reaction.

"Oh dear. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear!" howled Padma, biting her finger. "I can't believe I just let that slip!"

Hermione stood up and grabbed onto Padma's shoulders. "Let what slip? What's wrong?"

Padma became deadly serious. "Hermione, what I'm going to tell you can reach no one else's ears. You can't tell Harry or Ron or Ginny or anyone. _Especially_ don't tell Malfoy you know. I could really lose my job for this."

Hermione was a bit nervous about what Padma was going to say. What could possibly be so top-secret?

"You remember Tracey Davis? She wasn't a very popular Slytherin – hardly ever hung around Malfoy and his crew, but she was a pureblood Slytherin nonetheless. She and Malfoy began dating heavily two years ago. He accidentally got her pregnant after dating for two months. They didn't want anyone to get wind of it though; Malfoy still had his reputation to think of and Tracey's parents were very against Malfoy. He took her to Mungo's under an anonymous name when she became very ill. She remained there for most of her pregnancy since Malfoy didn't want to take any chances. Tracey died in childbirth, the baby dying with her. It was later revealed that an apprentice healer was giving her the wrong dose of medicine, which is what caused her illnesses and also killed the baby. Malfoy could have sued them if he wanted, but he was so overwrought with grief that he let the charges drop."

Hermione's mind was swirling with horror and fascination. She was getting drunk on all this new information of Draco Malfoy that she felt slightly light-headed. All these new facts made Malfoy seem more human, more penetrable. Like he wasn't an untouchable god anymore – he was mortal and faced losses like the rest of mankind. Hermione wanted as much information on Malfoy as possible.

"How did the press not catch wind of this?" whispered Hermione, her eyes wide.

Padma looked regretful, almost sorry for Malfoy. "Malfoy spent a large sum of money to keep all the healers in St. Mungo's quiet. When he started his treatments in Edinburgh his complete records came with him. No amount of money could erase his girlfriend and child's death completely."

Hermione could feel her eyes welling up. She was sorry for Malfoy, sorry for his girlfriend, and sorry for his unborn child. What would Malfoy be like today if the tragedy hadn't occurred? Would he be happily married with a healthy two-year old child?

"Was it a boy or a girl?" asked Hermione quietly.

"A boy. He was to be Malfoy's heir," Padma said back.

Both girls were silent for many minutes, the happier mood of the evening inevitably gone. The air was still and the only sounds that could be heard were Hermione's deep breathing and Crookshanks' claws on the wooden floor.

"Would you mind if I looked over these things?" asked Hermione, her head still down.

Padma squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. "Take your time."

With that, Padma left Hermione to herself, returning to her bedroom and closing the door softly.

As soon as Padma's door was shut, Hermione let out a silent cry. If Hermione was guilty of one fault, it was being too emotional. She was a ticking time-bomb, ready to go off at any minute. Small disturbances in people's lives could make her cry or make her angry. Surely Malfoy would disapprove of her inability to control her feelings, being as he was the master of stoicism. Hermione couldn't imagine living her life normally if her significant other and unborn child were dead. How could any ordinary human being suppress such strong feelings of hate towards the world? How could Malfoy wake up every morning and force himself to go on with his day? Hermione imagined that each day it would get harder and harder to put on that mask, to be that man of impenetrability. This took courage. Hermione would never accuse Malfoy of being a coward again.

She poured over the magazines and newspaper clippings. She read through Malfoy's interview in _Witch Weekly_, smiling to herself. This was dated two and a half years ago – had this interview been before Tracey and the baby died?

Hermione looked hard at the picture of Malfoy. He was smirking at her, running his hands through his hair. He looked so … happy. In his own way, Malfoy looked happy. He didn't need to laugh and be gay and beam to look happy. He just needed his casual smirk, that mischievous gleam in his eye that promised he would come out on top, and the light spring in his step. Hermione had noticed these little characteristics in Malfoy when she had been at his Manor before. Thinking back, she realized his smirks, his gleams, they didn't have the innocence they did before. If innocence was even the right word. They were malicious – on the very edge of breaking down. How long would Malfoy last before he cracked under the pressure of his rage and emotions? He was standing on a ledge a thousand feet above the ground, and Hermione wanted to save him.

She stopped to read a few of the questions.

_WW: _Mister Malfoy, during the War you disappeared completely to save yourself. How has that affected your life now? How did you emerge the victor and on top after the war ended?

_DM: _I won't name names. I don't want to put anyone else at risk, but there were a few people who helped me along the way. They housed me, kept me safe, and out of sight. I owe my life – literally – to them, and I shall not repay them by releasing their names to the public and put them in danger.

While I was in hiding I wasn't just idle. I kept up with the Malfoy Empire and kept its assets safe. When my uncle died and left me the Portkey Empire, I didn't think I could juggle both his assets and mine. I could, though. I managed my time well and along with my position at the Ministry, I was able to restore the family fortune.

Hermione nerves were grated when Malfoy didn't specify about his job at the Ministry.

_WW: _How did your parents die in the War? How does it feel being on your own completely?

_DM: _My father, who everyone now knows was a Death Eater, died in battle. He was killed by Arthur Weasley – a fitting opponent, as they both shared an animosity towards each other. My mother, bless her soul, was killed when Malfoy Manor was raided by a team from the Order of the Phoenix. She was brutally murdered. To this day I do not know who her killer was, but I shall find out, mark my words. Her death stays with me always. My father, however, was erased from my life when he disowned me after deserting the Dark Lord.

Hermione gaped at the page, re-reading his answer. _My mother, bless her soul, was killed when Malfoy Manor was raided by a team from the Order of the Phoenix. _How could this _be_? How had Hermione missed so much? She knew of the raid on Malfoy Manor – she had authorized it herself – but no one told her of the death of Narcissa Malfoy. She explained explicitly that no one was to be harmed, that this was just a routine search on the Manor for any Death Eaters. Who could have the nerve to disobey her, to disobey her so horribly that he was willing to kill an innocent woman?

Hermione was filled with rage, gripping the edges of the magazine until her knuckles were white. She was shaking, trying her best to suppress the unbelievable anger inside her. Who _dared _to kill an innocent bystander, especially when she had specifically instructed no harm was to come to anyone? Weren't they the good side? What heartless "good" person could do something so unfair?

Hermione seethed, thinking of the people who had been sent on that raid. Who had been in charge?

Ron.

No matter how hard she tried to defend Ron, she knew she couldn't entirely. She knew Ron hated Malfoy possibly more than anyone else in the world. She knew that if Ron became angry enough, he wouldn't be able to control himself. How many times had he started a fight with Malfoy in school, unable to control himself? Too many times to count. Ron's biggest fault was anger. When he was angry, no one was safe.

Hermione was struck with an idea. She ran to her room and pulled out a clean sheet of parchment and a quill. She quickly scratched out a letter and tied it to Rowin's letter, whispering the name of the recipient into his ear. He flew into the night, soaring and hooting by the moon.

She waited impatiently for him to return. She tapped her nails against the desk, staring hopefully out the window.

Rowin finally returned carrying a note and a large neatly tied stack of papers.

The note read:

_Dear Hermione,_

_So good to hear from you after all these years! I hope you've been well. I just heard about your new position at the Ministry – congratulations!_

_I have to admit I was a bit puzzled by the letter you sent, but here is the information you requested. It's Class A information, but I managed to sneak it out. You've always been a good friend, Hermione, and this was the least I could do to repay you!_

_Included are pictures of the body and reports of the autopsy. I hope this helped!_

_Keep in touch, _

_Eloise Midgeon_

Eloise Midgeon worked in the criminology department of the Ministry. Hermione remembered this valuable tidbit and asked Eloise to send some information of Narcissa Malfoy's death.

The pictures Hermione saw were not what she expected.

Narcissa's body was sprawled unnaturally on the ground, surrounded by a pool of blood. Her legs were turning the complete wrong way and her back was arched. Her face was pale and her hair was stained with stray splurges of blood.

Hermione wanted to vomit.

She managed to magnify the image with her wand. She zoomed in on the cuts on Narcissa's abdomen. Hermione immediately recognized the gashes as the effects of the _Sectumsempra _spell.

Taking one last look at the image before burning it, Hermione vowed to solve Narcissa's mystery, if only to put Malfoy at peace.

_He deserves that much_, she thought.

She blew out the candle on the desk and sat in the dark.


	14. A Deceptive Friendship

It was the next afternoon and Hermione was back in London. Her goodbye with Padma consisted of a long, ten-minute embrace and tears.

Hermione was preparing soup for herself in Ginny's kitchen while Ginny and Harry were away at Molly Weasley's home. They were there for lunch, and would actually be arriving home soon.

As if on cue, Harry appeared in the hearth, closely followed by a disgruntled Ginny. Neither looked quite cheerful.

"Lunch didn't go well?" asked Hermione, stirring her soup.

Harry snorted, sarcasm eminent. "Not very well, no. We just told Molly and Arthur that we're engaged."

Hermione looked up at him, surprised. "You mean you waited until today to tell them? Harry! I thought you told them the news as soon as it happened."

Ginny flopped down on the sofa, huffing loudly. "The news of the engagement led to other questions…about our sleeping arrangements."

Hermione tried to suppress a giggle. "Your sleeping arrangements?"

"They wanted to know about our sex lives!" roared Ginny.

Hermione blushed, embarrassed. "I'm sure it must have been awkward."

Ginny looked at her incredulously. "Awkward? Yeah, I think telling your parents that you're banging the boy of your dreams multiple times in a day is just a bit awkward."

Hermione and Harry looked away. Harry was coloring slightly, never one to be so honest.

Ginny looked around her. "Well, we are Harry. Hermione even walked in on us. I'm not going to lie and say we're morally innocent people – we're clearly not. You couldn't be such a good shag if you were morally uncorrupted."

"Ginny, spare me the details," said Hermione, motioning a gagging sign. This earned her a pillow to the head.

"I can't wait until you start having sex," said Ginny. "You're going to be a completely different person."

"Ginny, dear," said Harry tentatively, "Maybe you shouldn't be quite so…vocal."

Ginny grinned slyly at him, walking up to him like a cat. She kissed his mouth graciously and said, "What was that darling?"

Hermione was going to excuse herself when Ginny said, "Oh don't bother, 'Mione. I've got to get back to work in a few minutes – they only gave me the afternoon off."

Ginny changed out of her fancy lunch clothes into her casual working ones and flooed to Flourish & Blotts.

Harry leaned over Hermione's shoulder to taste the soup she was still stirring. Hermione swatted his hand loudly.

While rubbing his hand and sending glares her way, Harry said, "Fancy going out?"

Hermione thought it over, realizing she had nothing to do. "Alright then. I'm dying for a drink – The Purple Bar sound alright?"

"Mm yes," said Harry. "Sometimes I think we drink entirely too much."

Hermione snorted. "You're telling me. You weren't the one vomiting all over strange girls at the Ministry Gala the other night."

Harry stuck his tongue out at her. "I'll have to send you to one of those Muggle Alcoholics meetings if you don't stop chugging down that fire whiskey."

Hermione motioned chugging down bottle after bottle, earning a laugh from Harry.

She quickly excused herself to change in to more suitable clothes – her pajamas just wouldn't suffice, sadly – leaving Harry to slurp down all her soup.

She returned to the kitchen wearing a long flowing dress with a long-sleeved white turtle-neck underneath. She slipped into her boots and put on her coat, ready to go.

Harry eyed her. "Feeling Bohemian today?"

"Feeling like an arse today?" replied Hermione, winking at him.

Harry smiled sheepishly at her, his head bowed.

"Harry, you need to stop taking everything I say seriously," said Hermione good-naturedly, looping her arm through his. "To the alcohol!"

They Apparated side by side, arriving a safe few blocks from The Purple Bar, in a deserted lot to avoid being seen. They walked to the bar, both coloring from the cold and eager to go inside.

Hermione loved The Purple Bar. She thought it was the single most fantastic bar on the planet, with the single most fantastic drinks. She had her first alcoholic beverage here – okovita, a strong form of vodka. She remembered being piss-drunk by the end of two drinks and vaguely remembered dancing on the tables. To be specific, the table that an old man was now seated at.

"What'll it be?" asked a middle-aged woman with long gray and brown dreads. She had piercings on her nose, eyebrows, and chin. She had a wholesome, pretty face and was wearing an outfit quite like Hermione's.

"Just a Guinness, please," said Hermione.

"Yeah, I'll have the same," said Harry.

The woman nodded and bobbed away.

Hermione looked around the bar. "Brings back memories, doesn't it?"

Harry laughed, "Yeah. Memories of you taking off your top and swinging it around."

Hermione gaped at him. "Did I really do that? How embarrassing!"

"You're a wild little devil when you're drunk, Hermione," teased Harry. "You do very un-Hermione things."

Hermione clutched her head in her hands. "Yeah, like going home with Malfoy."

Harry frowned, obviously not happy.

Hermione said, "Oh, Harry, how much reassurance do you need? I told you nothing happened."

Silence ensued when the woman brought their drinks to them. They sipped in silence, looking around the room.

Finally Hermione broke it. "Harry, I need to talk to you about something very serious. I've been thinking of how to bring it up lightly, but there's just no light way to do it. You have to promise me that what I tell you reaches no one else's ears – not Ginny's or Ron's."

Harry looked at her, concerned. "Everything alright, Hermione? Did Malfoy do something to you?"

"No, no," said Hermione, "It's nothing he did to me – it's something that was done to him. Or rather, something that was done to his mother. I trust you remember his mother is dead?"

When Harry nodded, Hermione continued, "I was reading through an old _Witch Weekly_ interview with Malfoy – you know, he's Bachelor of the Year and all that – and he mentioned how his mother died. He's claiming a member of the Order murdered his mother when we raided the Manor during the War."

Harry was outraged. "What a little liar! He's just trying to make us look bad all over again!"

"She was killed by multiple uses of _Sectumsempra_," said Hermione quietly, looking down at her drink.

Harry stopped his rant, staring at Hermione with an open mouth. "_Sectumsempra_? But no one knows –"

"I know, Harry. The number of possible suspects is lowered significantly now. There are only five people who know about the curse – you, me, Ron, Snape, and Malfoy. We can obviously rule out Malfoy, he had no reason to murder his own mother. Snape, as well, I suppose. He was on the same side as Narcissa. I know I didn't do it, and I know you couldn't have done it since you weren't part of the raid. That leaves Ron."

"Come on, Hermione, you don't seriously believe Ron murdered her!" scoffed Harry.

"Based on the facts, it would seem –"

"Oh, dash the facts, Hermione! You're accusing your best friend of murder!" yelled Harry, his voice starting to rise. Hermione looked around the bar, hoping no one could hear him.

"Harry, keep your voice down," Hermione hissed, shrinking in her seat. "Don't be upset with me. I have every right to suspect Ron – everything points to him. He's uncontrollable when he's angry, he hates Malfoy and his family, and he had the most opportune moment to kill her. He was in charge of the raid and Narcissa was defenseless."

Harry took another approach, pleading with her. "Hermione, listen to me. We've known Ron our whole lives. He might be a bit out of hand when he's angry, but he's never given us any reason to think he's capable of _murder_. Listen to yourself! What you're saying is wrong and you know it."

Hermione looked away stubbornly. "Until I have concrete proof that Ron is innocent, I – I don't think I can trust him anymore."

"Then I don't think I can trust _you_ anymore," said Harry mutinously. "If you're so quick to accuse your friends of _murder_, then we obviously aren't as close as I thought."

With that, he shoved his chair back and slammed a ten pound note onto the table. He stalked out angrily, leaving Hermione to cower over on herself to avoid the curious stares of the other drinkers.

Hermione left enough money for a tip and exited the bar quietly, her head bowed. As soon as she was out the door the tears began to flow freely over her face. She hastily tried to wipe them off her face, but they kept coming.

She needed a friend to talk to. She tried calling Padma's cell phone but got the voice mail "Hey it's Padma! Leave a message and hopefully I'll know how to call back!" but didn't feel like leaving a message for Padma, making her worry for no reason.

Once safely outside the parameters of the busy London streets, Hermione Apparated to Diagon Alley, hoping to find Ginny at Flourish & Blotts. She stopped herself just outside of the bookstore when she realized she would have to explain what she and Harry fought about. She didn't want to worry Ginny about her suspicions, and no matter how many times Hermione tried to convince herself that this was the reason, she knew that she just couldn't trust Ginny the way she could trust Harry. This information was too valuable and important to be revealed to people.

Hermione was still crying heavily, sniffing every few seconds. She got second glances on the narrow streets of Diagon Alley. She never wished for an invisibility cloak more than she did now. She hurriedly entered a random shop to escape the prying eyes of the passersby.

It was the Quidditch shop.

Hermione groaned softly but mad her way to the back of the shop. She let out a sob at the same time as she bumped into a taller man. She looked up to see the face of Draco Malfoy, looking down at her peculiarly.

"Granger?" he said, looking at her. His arms had involuntarily made their way up to her shoulders, gripping them firmly.

Hermione kept her head down and muffled, "Malfoy, I really don't want to trade insults with you right now."

She made a move to bypass him but he stepped in front of her, blocking her way. He said, "Granger…what's wrong with you?"

Hermione's head snapped up and she looked him straight in the eye. She said, "Malfoy, you seem to catch me crying a lot."

Malfoy smirked, but there was no condescension in it. "Maybe you're just too emotional."

Hermione laughed, wiping the tears from her face. "I've been having a confusing week. Mostly because of you."

Malfoy was confused and indignant. "Even when I'm not around you manage to find a way to blame me for your problems."

"You misunderstand me," said Hermione calmly. "What I mean is that I'm trying to help you, but I'm ending up making things harder for myself."

Malfoy quirked an eyebrow. "You were trying to help me? Help with what, pray tell?"

"I don't want you to be upset with me," warned Hermione. "I…I'm trying to find out who murdered your mother."

Malfoy's face hardened and his eyes turned cold. He brushed past her violently and exited the store, leaving Hermione standing there shocked.

She ran out after him, calling out his name. "Malfoy! Malfoy, please stop!"

He stopped abruptly and Hermione bumped into him. He turned around and said icily, "Mind your own damn business, Granger. None of this concerns you."

"Please, Malfoy," she pleaded, "You know what I'm like. I'm too emotional for my own good and I'm a know-it-all who gets in to everyone's business. I know I have no right to be doing what I'm doing, but I promise you – I swear to you – that my intentions are good. I only want to help you."

Malfoy stared at her for a while, his face eventually softening around the ridges. "Come with me, Granger."

He lead her into The Leaky Cauldron, and from there they flooed to Malfoy Manor. He motioned for her to follow, and they ended up in his bedroom. He sat at the desk and opened his drawer, rummaging around for something. Hermione sat on the edge of his bed, feeling slightly uncomfortable.

He finally pulled out an old photograph. It was of him and Narcissa Malfoy. They were both smiling – really, truly smiling. They looked happy. Malfoy's arm was looped through Narcissa's and she was laughing gaily. The artificial sunlight from the photograph reflected prettily on her blond hair, and her face was fresh with red coloring. Malfoy's eyes were bright and clear, a triumphant grin on his face. He looked younger – his hair was shorter and he still had that pubescent innocence about him. Hermione saw the Quidditch Captain badge on his robes and immediately recognized this as the Hogwarts graduation in 7th year.

"You both look so happy…" said Hermione quietly.

"We were," said Malfoy. There was no emotion in his voice. "My father couldn't be bothered to attend – he was assisting the Dark Lord, no doubt. Somehow I think my graduation was that much better without him. My mother could be herself and not worry about my father's constant eye on her. We were both completely natural."

Hermione was standing behind him now, her hands on the back of the wooden chair. "You look good together. Like a normal mother and son."

Malfoy snorted bitterly. "I doubt we were ever like a normal mother and son, but I didn't mind our unusual relationship. It was more interesting."

Hermione said, "Malfoy, I'm so sorry about your mother. The reason I started with your mother's case is because I believe no one deserves to die unacknowledged. It would be an insult to your mother's memory to forget about her death; to stay defeated instead of finding out who her killer was."

Malfoy said quietly, "I know, Granger. Do not think for one minute that I've been at rest all these years. My every day has been about her."

Hermione hesitantly laid a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. He stilled under her hand, but eventually let out a breath, relaxing his shoulder. His hand slowly made its way on top of hers. "Granger, I…I appreciate this."

"Shh," Hermione cooed, lacing her fingers through his.


	15. My Best Friend is a Bottle

**Author's Note: **Thankyou, thankyou, thankyou to all the people who've been reviewing! I noticed some regular reviewers and some new reviewers, and to all I say THANKYOU! I'm sorry I've not been updating everyday, but I've been studying frantically for my upcoming PSAT (which is tomorrow). I'll be back and regular after tomorrow though, so don't fret.

Keep reading and keep reviewing!

* * *

"There's something you should know, Granger," said Malfoy, obviously not looking at her.

They were sitting by the fire, the rest of the lights unlit. Hermione was sitting on the ground, her back against the wall, sipping on wine. She was more comfortable in that room than she had ever been anywhere else. It was so simple.

Malfoy draped himself casually but elegantly on the long black sofa. Hermione admired his constant poise – he was diplomatic and elegant even when at rest. His one leg was hanging off while the other was running the length of the sofa. His arm was draped over the back of the sofa and his head was tilted back, resting against the comfy arm. His posture and stature on the couch represented his status in Wizarding society well, Hermione thought.

The simplicity of which Hermione had been thinking was the noted lack of drama. After the scene in Malfoy's bedroom, Hermione soon realized that even though she and Malfoy were far from friends and far from liking each other, they got along compatibly. They didn't have those petty fights. Their only fights were major ones, and when they weren't fighting they were at peace. They said few words to one another, but they both knew they felt comfort in each other's presence. It was the most simple and romantic situation Hermione had been in, and it had only begun an hour ago.

"What's that?" asked Hermione lazily. The warmth from the fire and the liquid going down her throat made her feel unwound, vulnerable.

"A year ago I had a hearing in front of the Wizengamot. It was for the purpose of accusing the Order of the Phoenix of murdering my mother. I didn't specify who it was who killed her, I just went there with the knowledge that a member of the Order committed the crime," said Malfoy slowly. He took his time in continuing. "I finally received a letter back from them last week. They're willing to take on my case and have already been pouring over possible suspects since last month. When I told them about the _Sectumsempra_ they singled it down to one person. Weasley."

Hermione sucked in a breath, about to say something before Malfoy cut her off. "He's going to have to stand trial. I can predict it won't be a very pleasant outcome."

Hermione said, "If…if he's convicted, what will they do to him?"

Malfoy said, "A lifetime sentence in Azkaban at the very least."

Hermione shut her eyes, pained. Her earlier conversation with Harry was haunting her. She realized now that she couldn't possibly accuse Ron of murder. It was Ron, her sweet, endearing Ron.

"Does Ron know?" asked Hermione, a fat tear squeezing out of the corner of her eye.

"I expect he'll be informed soon – tomorrow, even," said Malfoy. His voice was strained as he continued, "You'll have to choose, Granger. Weasley won't forgive you if you side with me, and I can't stand to affiliate myself with you if you side with the possible murderer of my mother."

Hermione clutched her head in her heads, unsure of what to do. She knew that first and foremost she was Ron's best friend, no matter how pleasant Malfoy had been towards her during the past few days. Ron had been there for her since 1st year, and Hermione was not likely to forget that. Who had been there when Hermione lost sight of herself and let herself go? Ron. Who had fought the War by Harry's side, swearing to protect her? Ron. Who always threw her the most outrageous and lavish birthday parties? Ron. Who brought out the passionate and romantic side in Hermione? Malfoy.

Hermione's mind was set. She stood, wobbling unsteadily with the wine glass in hand. Malfoy stood abruptly to steady her and she leaned into his chest, breathing in his scent. Malfoy, still uncomfortable with the closeness, stilled underneath her, but kept his arms around her.

Hermione looked into his eyes, almost afraid of the intensity behind the gray. Her mind was blank as she leaned forward and placed her lips on his, sucking gently. She could taste the wine off his lips, the saltiness of his tongue, and could faintly smell cigarette smoke of the Wizarding kind, and it addicted her. She breathed heavily, taking him all in. Malfoy's hands made their way to her face, cupping it gently. She leaned into him, moaning in his mouth. In the far off distance, she heard the rustling of the wind outside. The sounds of the outside world brought Hermione back into it, abruptly pulling away.

Malfoy pulled back, confused. For a second he looked vulnerable to Hermione, almost boy-like. His eyes had been wide open and she could see the world in them, but then he snapped them shut, and when he opened them again they were the steel she was used to.

"I'm so sorry," Hermione whispered into his ear, "I…I should be with Ron right now."

She pulled away from him, her fingers lingering in his, and walked away, her boots clicking loudly against the marble. Once in the doorway she turned back to him, and saw that his usual glare and snarl was on his face. She waved hesitantly and Apparated out.

* * *

When Hermione arrived outside of Ginny's door it was still relatively early, half past six in the evening. She sighed and opened the door with a heavy heart.

"Ginny?" she called, looking up the staircase.

When she heard no response, she made her way into the kitchen. There was a note for her on the counter which Hermione immediately recognized as Ginny's neat handwriting.

_Herm,_

_Harry's in a weird mood today so I'm going over to his place. I'll probably be staying the night so it looks like you've got the place to yourself! Try not to break anything and don't finish off my liquor cabinet!_

_There's some leftover food from my mum's place on the kitchen table, knock yourself out!_

_Much love,_

_Ginny._

_P.S. Ron's Cornwall game is tonight. If you get a chance, try to be there for him. There's an after party if they win at some club or another._

The last thing Hermione wanted was to see Ron. She couldn't help but feel resentful towards him. He was, after all, the reason she left Malfoy. Thinking this, she realized that if she left Malfoy, it should be for a good reason. She chose to be on Ron's side, and now she had to live up to that. She would do what she could for Ron, but always with a feeling of betrayal.

She ate by herself at the kitchen table, unable to appreciate Molly's fine cooking skills. She thought over and over of the mess she'd gotten herself into. She had to keep convincing herself that even if she hadn't involved herself with Narcissa's murder, Ron would still have to stand trial.

Did Ron know yet? Was he playing with a worry so heavy that his ability to focus was impaired?

_And who am I, _Hermione thought, _Who am I to ruin Ron's game?_

Downing a glass full of scotch, Hermione stumbled to her guest bedroom to change. She wasn't going to stay home all night, no, she was going to Ron's game, and hopefully his after party as well.

She rummaged through her drawers, unable to find an outfit she liked. Hesitantly opening the door to Ginny's room, Hermione made her way through Ginny's closet. She felt no remorse or guilt – Ginny had always offered her clothes any time she wanted. The only difference in their sizes was that Ginny had a slightly larger chest.

She slipped into a short, black dress and high-heeled pumps. She put her hair back into a messy bun, unable to focus enough on the proper spells to make her hair look better. She felt high, above everything else. She was untouchable – just like Malfoy.

As she was getting ready to floo to the Quidditch reception room, she drank a last glass of wine. She was smiling. Everything felt good to her.

Stumbling over on herself as she got out of the grate in Cornwall, a young man helped her up. He was wearing a red uniform and no doubt worked in the building.

"Alright there, miss?" he asked politely, helping her stand.

Hermione felt irritated as she took her arm back. "I'm fine," she snapped. "Where's the Quidditch game?"

He looked at her, concerned, and pointed her in the general direction of the stadium.

He called after her, "But the game's over, miss! It just ended not five minutes ago!"

Hermione ignored him and sauntered on. She made her way outside and across the field to the stadium. She could make out loud shouts and hoots from one side of the stadium, and groans and jeers from the other.

She saw a red figure flying through the air, a jubilant smile on his face. He was flying his victory lap, Hermione noticed.

Once inside the stadium, she made her way to the VIP box, flashing her badge all the while. Ron had given her a lifetime VIP pass to every one of his games.

She seated herself elegantly and took a glass of wine from the passing waiter. She sipped at it graciously, moaning a little in her mouth. She loved the taste of wine; it reminded her of Malfoy.

A door flew open and seven sweaty men made their way in, shouting and cheering. She spotted Ron before he spotted her and she jumped behind him, laying her hands on his eyes.

"Guess who," she said.

He turned around, a surprised smile on his face. "Hermione!" he exclaimed. "I didn't think you'd show!"

He looked at her, admiring her dress. "You look amazing; did you come from a party or something?"

Hermione giggled, "I came _for_ a party."

Ron gave her a peculiar look, but grinned at her all the same, and said, "Well, little lady, you're in luck. We just won."

Hermione squealed and gave him a quick hug. She said, "Darling, go take a shower first."

Ron pushed her playfully and made his way across the room to the other doorway which led back to the locker rooms. He told her to wait for him for just ten minutes while he got his things so they could floo back to his place in London.

Hermione made herself comfortable on the seat again, taking another wine glass. The waiter looked at her, concerned, as if to convey some message of "slow it down."

Hermione ignored him and drank deeply.

When Ron returned, he and Hermione flooed to Ron's place and she waited for him to change and shower. She looked around the cozy house, not having been there in months. She unconcernedly took some sherry out of his liquor cabinet and drank to glasses and was feeling slightly dizzy by the time Ron returned.

Ron summoned a limo – courtesy of his Quidditch captain – and they rode into the Wizarding district of Soho. This area was quite different from Diagon Alley. While Diagon Alley was old-worldly and full of shops for the average witch or wizard, the Wizarding Soho was full of modern commerce, entertainment, clubs, and posh restaurants. Many teenage witches and wizards and the richer side of magical society frequented Soho.

The limo stopped just outside of Movida, a lavish guest list/VIP members only nightclub owned by a Wizard, but the club was primarily Muggle. On occasion a rich witch or wizard would rent out the club for the night, but most of the owner's business came from Muggles.

"I can't believe you brought me to Movida!" Hermione gasped, stepping out of the limousine.

"Well when you've got seven rich blokes and a ridiculously rich coach, you tend to want the best," said Ron, cupping Hermione's back gently as he guided her in.

All Ron had to do was flash the guard on duty a toothy smile and he was let in, no question asked. Hermione quickly followed, eager to take in the famous club. She'd heard lots about it from various friends, especially Ginny, and although she had never had a particular yearning to see the place, she was here now and eager to take it in.

She took Ron's hand and led him to the bar. She ordered a vodka tonic and toasted with Ron's glass, the sound of their glasses clashing ringing through her ears.

Ron excused himself quickly to talk to a few of his friends by the DJ and Hermione wandered the club.

She was asked by a young man who couldn't have been more than 18 for a dance. Oddly flattered, she allowed him to lead her on the dance floor. He was an aggressive dancer, trying in earnest to be as close to her body as possible. Hermione laughed at his attempts, pulling herself further away from him each time. He seemed to take it in stride, though, and it only made him try harder. In the end he made it up to her by buying her a drink. By this point Hermione was becoming thoroughly light-headed and nauseous. She picked up a head-ache reliever potion from the bar, but as the bar was not licensed in potion making, she could only get mild symptom relief.

"Fancy a bourbon?" asked Ron from behind, looping his arm through hers and handing her a glass of bourbon.

She accepted the glass but had a slight frown on her face, which made Ron asked concernedly, "Hermione, everything alright? Maybe you shouldn't drink this."

He motioned to take the glass away from her but she angrily snatched her arm away. "I'm _fine_, Ron," she downed the glass, "Quit worrying about me."

He made a motion of surrender and patted her back. "Feel like leaving soon?"

"Of course not," she snapped, "I'm still having fun."

She stalked off in search of the ladies' room and proceeded to vomit painfully in the nearest toilet. She felt disgusting and nauseous. She washed her face with cold water and reapplied simple make-up, then made her way back out into the dance floor. She danced randomly and frantically, attracting unwanted attention.

Ron came up to her again, this time with a look of fierce determination. "Hermione, you're obviously not well. I'm taking you home."

He grabbed her arm but she reflexively slapped his face. Everyone around them was too busy dancing or drinking to notice.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Ron hissed angrily in her ear.

"Get away from me!" screamed Hermione petulantly, pulling away from him.

But Ron held her firm. "Hermione, you're my best friend and I'm not going to let you make a fool of yourself. You may hate me later, but even you would agree that your reputation has a high price. Let's go."

"I said get _away_ from me, you murderer!" she screamed.

Ron stilled, his face becoming stony. "What the fuck is wrong with you? How much did you drink tonight?"

"I called you a _murderer_! Not because I'm drunk, because it's true!" she yelled at him.

"What are you talking about?" asked Ron, all traces of humor gone now. He looked at Hermione with an intensity so strong that Hermione had to look away angrily.

"Don't act like you don't know," hissed Hermione. "You killed Narcissa Malfoy. You _murdered _her. And you're going to stand trial! Yes, you're going to be convicted!"

Ron pulled away from Hermione, recoiling at the sight of her.

Ron was backing away from her now, shaking his head disbelievingly. "Who the hell are you? You're not Hermione. You're not my Hermione."

"I was never your Hermione!" she spat at him, turning on her heel and running away.

Ron Apparated out of the club, unable to deal with the sounds and the happiness around him.

Hermione, who was also both physically and emotional incapable of dealing with the situation, ran in the direction of the bar, breathlessly ordering three shots of tequila and downing them. She was drowning her sorrows and her general health in alcohol, all the while unaware of the damage she was doing to her life.

She cried as she drank and drank and drank. She wasn't exactly sure how she made it home. She vaguely remembered that same 18 year old boy dropped her in front of Ginny's door.

She collapsed on the sofa, unable to make it to the bedroom or change her clothes.

That night she dreamt she was flying over Hogwarts on Buckbeak, the hippogyff, her arms around Harry. She remembered screaming and shouting, half with fear and half with exhilaration, and buckling her knees, she raised her arms into the sky as a sign of freedom and liberation. She could almost feel the cold wind whipping against her hair and the warmth spreading over her skin. She felt alive and feeling and real. She never wanted the dream to end.


	16. Forgiveness in Small Words

**Author's Note: **Once again thanks for all of the reviews! I realize I took some time in updating this chapter and I apologize. There will be times when I cannot update everyday, and I kindly ask you to be patient and bear with me - I will never take longer than a few days or a week at the most to update a chapter.

Also, someone asked why the rating was Mature. I originally intended this fic to become sexually explicit. There were going to be some heavy sex scenes in the future, but as I wrote the fic I realized I didn't feel like writing sex scenes. There will be some hot 'n heavy stuff here and there, but nothing that will go beyong a Teen rating.

* * *

"Get up!"

Hermione groaned as a hand shoved at her again. She fell off the couch ungracefully, landing with a thump. She groaned again, still unable to open her eyes. Her whole body ached.

She lazily opened one eye, it being sensitive to the light. She winced, pushing her head off the ground. She could make out long red hair flowing behind a petite body, which was presently pacing back and forth. When her vision focused, Hermione noted the frustration and anger on the pretty, freckled face.

"G-Ginny?" asked Hermione uncertainly. Her own soft and confused voice made her wince; the sound was that of a thousand trumpets being blasted in her ear.

"Get _up, _you bloody stupid alcoholic!" shouted the redhead, shaking Hermione's shoulders.

Hermione's grasp on the situation was slippery and the increasing agitation in Ginny's voice frightened her.

"Ginny, what's wrong with you?" Hermione managed to choke out. The roof of her mouth was dry and bitter against her tongue. Vague recollections of the preceding night were coming back to her in a blur.

Ginny ran into the kitchen, bringing back a steaming goblet. Hermione drank, not caring what was in it, and realized by the sickly sweet taste that it was hangover potion. Did she have another hangover? This was the second time in days.

Her head feeling slightly clearer now, Hermione sat up straight with her back against the sofa.

Ginny gave her no more than ten seconds to recuperate before she berated her with questions and accusations.

Hermione only managed to catch bits and pieces of the overall rant, like "conviction" and "all your fault."

"Gin, what are you _talking _about?" asked Hermione, her eyebrows furrowing.

Ginny stopped mid-sentence and stared at Hermione in disbelief. Her eyes were aflame and her hair seemed to cackle with electricity. When she finally managed to control her anger, she spat out, "You _lousy_ little sneak! You have the _nerve _to act all innocent and uninformed?!"

Hermione was most indignant. "Wait just a minute, Ginny. I don't know who you think you're talking to but I will not tolera –"

"Shut up!" shrieked Ginny. "This must be your hangover talking – it _better _be your hangover talking – because I know you're not generally so stupid. When my brother came over this morning in _tears_, afraid for his life I knew something was wrong. He had a letter in his hands – a letter from the Ministry. He's being tried by the full Wizengamot for the murder of Narcissa Malfoy!"

Hermione blanched. "What did you say?"

"You heard me! And don't bother denying anything, you little traitor, because Harry told me about your conversation at the bar yesterday. I can't believe we all trusted you. The first chance you got you dropped us like hot coals and squealed to the Ministry! And it's not just that, Hermione, it's the fact that you lied. Lied about your best friend, and now he has to stand trial and the outcome is not looking in his favor."

Hermione was thinking hard, trying to remember what happened after she left the bar. She went to Diagon Alley. Malfoy! She'd run into Malfoy! But then what? Hermione was scrunching her face into a frustrated frown, racking her brains to remember.

She'd kissed Malfoy.

And before that she'd agreed to help him with his mother's mystery – but that was before Malfoy had given her an ultimatium. Ron or Malfoy. She had chosen Ron out of pure loyalty, but how had she lived up to that loyalty? She'd gotten royally drunk at Ron's after party, made a fool of herself, and humiliated Ron. Not to mention she'd let it spill about the investigation. What kind of friend was she? What kind of _person _was she?

Hermione could feel hot tears welling up in her eyes and her face was becoming blotchy with red spots. She pleaded, "Ginny, please. Ginny, you know I'm always on Ron's side and I had no idea what I was getting myself or Ron into when I told Malfoy I'd help him. Please, please believe me."

Ginny looked like she was being torn in two directions. Finally battling her self-struggle, she choked out, "Hermione, you know I don't want to do what I have to do, but you've given me no choice. I know you didn't mean for any of this to happen, but eventually I'll have to choose between you and Ron and – and even though we're best friends, I have to side with my brother. I…I can't deal with this – I can't deal with _you. _You're drinking has gone beyond out of control. Just look at the mess you've made! You're not only endangering your own life but the lives of those around you. I can't take that risk anymore, Hermione."

"You want me to leave," said Hermione flatly. Her head was bowed and she knew what Ginny's response was going to be.

"Please understand my position," said Ginny softly. "I have every right to ask you to leave. You're a completely different person now. You drink away your problems and leave your mess for everyone else to clean up and you're just…not Hermione anymore. What kind of friend puts another friend in mortal danger? Why would you ever do anything to hurt Ron? He's never done anything but love you."

Hermione didn't respond – how could she to such a statement? – and simply lifted herself off the seat and made her way to the guest bedroom. She half-heartedly magicked all her belongings into suitcases and made her way to the front door.

Ginny called hesitantly after her, "Hermione – I think it's best if we don't speak until after the trial. Don't go to Harry or Ron either; it will only make things worse. And…good luck with your job."

Hermione shut the door softly behind her. She wouldn't let herself cry. What she needed right now was to be practical. Firstly she needed a place to stay. When she realized that the only people who would normally offer her room and board were currently not speaking to her, she knew she had no where to go. She had hit rock bottom for the second time in her life, this time the only difference being she wasn't going to let herself be lost again. She wasn't going to go through that period of confusion, self-deprecation, and self-doubt all over again. She didn't think she had the emotional strength to endure it for a second time.

She wandered through the streets of London aimlessly, her bags in spelled to trail behind her. She wasn't worried about being spotted – firstly because Ginny lived in a primarily Wizard neighborhood and second, by the looks of it, it was still relatively early in the morning. Hermione fished her mobile out of her coat pocket and saw that the time was 7:32AM. _Bloody hell,_ she thought.

She walked to a nearby park and sat her things down beside her on the stone bench. Her seminar at the Ministry was tomorrow morning. She needed to prepare and become acquainted with the expectations of her new job. After sitting on the bench surreally for ten minutes, she decided impulsively that the best option at this point was The Leaky Cauldron. It was cheap, it was convenient, and it was her only choice.

She Apparated inside the bar area of the hotel/bar room. She pointedly avoided looking at the bar – alcohol was, after all, one of the main sources of all her problems. She knew it wouldn't be easy giving it up cold turkey, but she needed to. She realized that it controlled her life, dominated her decision making skills, and was ultimately ruining her life.

Tom the barman escorted her into the cheapest room available by request of Hermione. She might have a new job, but she wasn't making money just yet – she still needed to save her money for emergencies. She couldn't rely on anyone but herself. Her only friends that were speaking to her – Parvati and Colin – were in Scotland. She wasn't entirely sure about Colin; he might still be in London. Ron's game was only last night, after all.

Eager about the prospect of having a shoulder to lean on, she dialed in Colin's mobile number into her own. She waited after several rings for someone to pick up.

Finally she heard a cool female voice on the other end. "Hello?"

"Hello?" said Hermione, confused. "Have I got the right number? I'm looking for Colin Creevey."

"Oh, hold on," said the female, and Hermione could hear groans and rustling as the phone was presumably being passed to Colin.

"'Lo?" said Colin, sleep still apparent in his voice.

"Colin!" said Hermione. "Who was that girl? Another shag?"

She could just hear Colin's smirk. "Yeah, and a great one too. What's up? Why are you calling so early?"

"Colin, are you planning on staying in London for today? I really need someone to talk to," said Hermione, somewhat pathetically. She could already feel the tears welling up again, threatening to stream down her face.

"Yeah, 'course," said Colin, concerned. "I'll meet you as soon as I can. How's ten o' clock at Kensington Gardens? My hotel room is just by there."

Hermione sniffled as she replied, "Thanks, Colin."

Hermione spent the remainder of the morning contemplating the seriousness of her actions. What was she going to do about Ron? She would everything in her power to help him; even if it was indirect help since he didn't want to see her.

She was also surprised at Ginny. She respected her for putting her personal feelings aside and asking Hermione to leave. Ginny might be a feisty redhead with a lot of spunk, but she was also a caring, loving, and loyal friend. Despite kicking her out, Ginny had saved Hermione from a lot of drama. If she'd stayed with Ginny, Ron would have lost it. Ginny was thinking of others always.

When Hermione arrived in Kensington Gardens, donning a large blue scarf with her hair cascading over it, she felt hopeful. Maybe she could change things. Maybe she could be proud to be Hermione Granger again.

She sat the foot of the Peter Pan statue, snow falling on her hair and pigeons flying overhead. The statue was frosted at the top and there were still small blades of grass poking out over the snow. Seeing nature as it was – unaffected by mankind and all its problems – Hermione shed a single, lone tear for the world. She heard a click and saw a flash off to the right and turned to see Colin leaning against a tree, a black camera hung around his neck.

He smiled at her from afar, and motioned clicking a camera button with his fingers. He was wearing a black leather jacket with dark blue jeans. He walked over to her and sat at the foot of the statue also, slinging his arm around her shoulders.

"I think that might have been one of my best photos," he commented.

Hermione looked at him skeptically. "I'm sitting by a statue."

"Yes, but there's so much going on around you. You're a lone figure against a large, large world. With that tear coming down your cheek, I think it'll come out perfectly," said Colin. "So what's going on?"

Hermione let out a deep breath and told him everything. She was tired of evading the point, of leaving out information here and there. She told him what happened from start to finish, from the Christmas party to this morning, and didn't stop to breathe until she was done.

Colin frowned as she was nearing her story. Colin was very good friends with Ginny – they had dated on and off all throughout Hogwarts and had even been the one to take Ginny's virginity. Hermione thought he might have a hard time grasping an image of Ginny kicking Hermione out of her house.

Hermione finally finished and heaved a sigh. She leaned her head against Colin's shoulder and let him kiss the top of her head. She felt at peace with herself and never wanted to go back into the world of trials and murders and betrayals.

"Despite what Ginny told you, you need to talk to Ron and Harry," was Colin's first piece of advice. "Ginny may not be the best person to listen to when it comes to matters of the three of you. She doesn't know the inner workings of your relationships with Ron and Harry, and ultimately, you're the only one to decide if you should talk to them. My personal advice is that you should – you won't be happy until you do."

"But what about Malfoy?" asked Hermione. "Am I just supposed to forget about my promise to him?"

Colin opened his mouth hesitantly, giving Hermione a brief look of apology before he said, "I think…I think you might be falling in love with Malfoy."

Hermione choked so hard that Colin had to thump her back several times. "I'm sorry?" she spluttered.

Hermione wasn't going to deny what Colin had said – she herself had been thinking about it. She refused to believe she could fall in love so easily and so quickly with any man – especially a man whom she hated all throughout her school years. A man who hated her as well, and voiced his hatred everyday.

"How do you know if you're in love?" asked Hermione. "I realize you probably haven't found the one yet – but with Ginny, how did you know it was the right time to make love?"

Colin mulled over what she said thoughtfully. He finally said, "With Ginny, I don't think it was that I was in love with her, it was that we both wanted it. We both wanted to be in that moment – in that time of passion and adult-like feeling. It just happened, and afterwards of course we didn't regret it, but we were a bit apprehensive to do it again."

"But you still sleep around," argued Hermione. "Do you stop and think about it each time?"

A small smile tugged at Colin's lips. "I fall in love with each and every woman that I sleep with. I may not remember their names, but I remember how they felt, how they made me feel. I won't sleep with the same woman twice because I don't want to shatter that perfect image – that image of happiness. But don't for one second think that I don't care about the women in my life, Hermione."

"That's sweet, Colin," said Hermione softly. "But how does that help me? I hate to sound selfish, but my life is so screwed up right now that I don't know what to do. My new job starts tomorrow and I'm not ready. My best friend is going to stand trial for murder because I was stupid to involve myself with the case. I'm not ashamed to admit I have a serious drinking problem and I don't know how to control it."

Colin embraced her as he said, "If I could buy you a magical button that allowed you to stop time I would. If I could pay off your problems I would. But I can't. I can only tell you I love you and I support you. The only advice I can give you is to take each day one at a time and avoid going to bars or other social places with alcohol. Worry about yourself instead of Ron or Harry or Ginny. They're old enough to take care of themselves and they know you love them. Underneath their angry façade they know you care. You just need to focus on your job and your health and hope things will turn out for the best."

Hermione sniffed. "Stop time," she whispered.

* * *

Hermione's heels were clicking on the marble of the Ministry's fourth floor. She was confident with her head held high, ready for her seminar. She listened to all the lectures and procedures intently, taking notes with a self-writing quill. She was trying to remember Colin's advice, politely declining the passing waiter's offer of wine, and also trying to focus on her job instead of worrying about Ron.

However, during her hour long lunch breath she managed to get into the Aurors' offices by saying she was expecting Harry. She casually waved her wand and muttered a spell which photocopied the criminal reports of everyone with the last name beginning with W.

She hurriedly left the office and made herself comfortable in a secluded lobby area on the 6th floor. She looked over the papers until she found Weasley, Ronald Bilius and began to pour over the papers hungrily.

She heard a door open and looked up at Draco Malfoy's face. It felt like time had stopped. Hermione opened her mouth and then shut it again, never taking her eyes off Malfoy's. She felt her face redden and she jumped out of her seat and walked hurriedly out of the room.

She didn't want to think of their kiss. She especially didn't want to think that she might have _enjoyed _their kiss. She didn't want to admit that she was dying to know how Malfoy felt about all this; wanted to know what he was thinking at this very moment, and how he was dealing with the upcoming trial.

She heard footsteps behind her and sighed as she turned around, already knowing who she was going to see.

Malfoy was standing, hesitating slightly, not knowing whether to go forward or turn back.

"It's okay," he said quietly. So quietly that Hermione barely heard him and was almost going to ask him to repeat himself before he turned away and walked back into the lobby.

Hermione stood there for a few moments, dumbfounded. Malfoy was forgiving her. She didn't need to ask him to be specific because she knew. She knew that Malfoy was forgiving her and it felt wonderful. She felt free and liberated and ready to take on the world.

On her way back to the conference room she stopped to drink a glass of sherry. Her happiness over Malfoy's forgiveness had clouded her better judgment, and she justified drinking by saying it was a joyous celebration that called for a little drink.

She tried hard to pay attention for the rest of the afternoon. She couldn't help going back to the two words Malfoy had said – just those two words that had made her day. She could now help Ron and still be in Malfoy's good graces. Or somewhere very near to his good graces.

She returned to The Leaky Cauldron at the end of her day and eagerly met Colin for ice cream at Fortescue's for his last night in London. She enjoyed herself tremendously, feeling a large weight being lifted off her shoulders.


	17. Comfort in Lies

**Author's Note: **Thanks for the reviews everyone! I'm glad I'm getting lots of positive feedback.

I apologize again for delays in the updates. I'm not going to update everyday anymore because I want to keep this fic going for a while. I'll update twice a week – Mondays and Fridays.

Keep reading and keep reviewing!

* * *

"I have something for you," said Colin. 

He was leaning against his car, all packed and ready to drive back to Edinburgh. He handed Hermione a small wrapped parcel and she smiled at him delightedly.

She opened it tenderly, not wanting to waste the paper wrap. Inside was a beautiful picture frame with seashells and beads glued prettily around it. The photo in the frame was one taken by the seaside on their ride down to London. It was a still Muggle photograph, and Hermione appreciated the simplicity of it. Sometimes she liked still photographs more than the moving ones, because they captured the true essence of the moment.

In the photograph Colin's arm was around Hermione's shoulders, and he was hunched over on himself, laughing. The wind was blowing his shaggy blond hair, as it was blowing Hermione's long brown hair. Hermione was leaning into Colin's chest, a large grin on her face. She was looking straight at the camera with bright, happy eyes and a snow cone in hand.

"It's the one the ice cream man took of us," explained Colin after a time. "It's just a little reminder for you, that even though you're having difficulty with a majority of your friends, you still have one faithful, loyal friend. Always."

"Oh, Colin, I love it!" Hermione gasped, jumping into his arms.

He chuckled and swung her around, and putting her down he said, "Alright, kiddo, I've got to get going."

He kissed the top of her head and gave her a last hug before jumping into his car and driving down the street. When he reached the end of the street he honked the horn twice and stuck his hand out of the window, waving.

Hermione looked down at the photograph again and hugged it close to her chest. Colin was a great guy. She had never had any difficulties with him. He was just a simple, entertaining, loveable person that everyone could get along with, and she treasured him.

She was outside of Colin's hotel, and just before she was going to Apparate back to Diagon Alley, she realized that this hotel was not far from Ron's place. She hesitated for only a split second, and with her mind set, she Apparated to Ron's.

She stood outside of his front door, breathing deeply. Did she really want to face him? He was no doubt still absolutely furious with her, and she wouldn't be surprised if he just all and out shut the door in her face and ignored her.

She rang the doorbell twice and waited. Those twenty seconds of waiting were the worst of Hermione's life. She expected yelling and red faces and curses to be thrown around.

Harry opened the door, surprised to see her. His surprise was quickly masked with disappointment and anger.

"What are you doing here, Hermione?" he asked. He sounded tired and looked it too.

"I'm here to apologize to Ron," said Hermione unsteadily. "To all of you, actually."

"I highly doubt he'll want to see you. He's currently in the study with a lawyer – you know, since he's being tried for murder and all that," said Harry coldly.

He made to shut the door but Hermione stopped him.

She looked at him with big, pleading eyes and said, "Harry, _please_. Of all the years you've known me, when have I ever been so heartless? I've always put you and Ron before myself, before my studies. I'd never do _anything _to endanger his wellbeing and you _know_ that, Harry, you know that. Please don't do this to me."

"You really think what you're going through is worse than what Ron is going through?" asked Harry venomously. "You really think he's better off than you are?"

"No!" Hermione protested. "I'm just trying to do the right thing. I'm trying to make things right; I want to help in any way that I can, and you know I'm useful."

Harry only stared for a few minutes, but he finally said, "I'm only doing this to help Ron. This doesn't mean I've forgotten everything, Hermione. Keep that in mind."

He left the door open and walked into the house, leaving Hermione to follow him hesitantly. Frankly, she was offended. She was being honest and Harry was still being stubborn. Didn't he understand that she didn't want any of this to happen? And didn't he understand that Ron would be tried regardless of her involvement with Malfoy?

Harry motioned for her to stay behind in the foyer while he walked down the hallway and tapped on a large Oak door.

Ron stuck his red head out and looked at him inquiringly. He looked more tired than Harry. His face was pale and washed out, his eyes were large and dull, and he looked as if he had lost a lot of weight. Hermione had only seen him a few days ago and he looked completely different.

He didn't notice Hermione standing in the foyer. Harry whispered something in his ear and Ron suddenly turned his head in the direction of Hermione, his eyes darkening. A mutinous snarl was forming on his face and he looked about to yell at her before Harry whispered something to him again. Ron nodded reluctantly and shut the door again, leaving Harry outside.

A few moments later a tall, regal looking wizard came out of the room, his black robes billowing behind him. He gave Hermione a suspicious glance before making his way to the large fireplace on the opposite side of the hallway and flooing out.

Ron came out a minute later, as well. He stalked up to Hermione and spat, "You've got some nerve."

Hermione stood her ground, determined to make Ron understand. "Ron, I –"

"Save it, Hermione," Ron said. "I don't want to hear your pathetic apologies right now; I just want your help."

Hermione was on the verge of tears hearing Ron speak this way. She put her childlike feelings aside and put on her best professional face. She nodded curtly, understanding fully that if she wanted to help Ron, she'd have to put her emotionality aside.

"I have papers from the Aurors' office concerning your conviction and I've been researching about past cases like yours. All of this material is in my room at the Leaky Cauldron, though. I can Apparate back right now and get the things if you'd like," said Hermione, wincing slightly at her emotionless tone.

Ron shook his head. "Forget it. I'll come 'round later tonight and look the things over. I have to meet with my Quidditch coach about the likelihood of me continuing to play Quidditch after the trial."

Was Ron's career at stake? Hermione was horrified even further now, realizing that Ron's entire life was on the line.

Hermione nodded again and made to leave. Before she left, though, Ron had something to say which startled Hermione.

"Why are you staying at the Leaky Cauldron?" Ron asked. He tried to ask this nonchalantly.

Hermione turned around, her eyebrows raised. "Ginny hasn't told you?" When Ron shook his head and furrowed his eyebrows, Hermione was about to tell him she got kicked out before she thought better of it. She didn't want to make Ginny the bad guy, especially if she deserved to be kicked out. "I – I'm not living with Ginny anymore."

She Apparated out quickly to avoid further questioning.

The minute Hermione left Harry told Ron the real truth.

There was a second's flash of indecision in Ron's eyes before he stormed back into the study and slammed the door shut.

* * *

Hermione waited around for hours, wondering when Ron was going to come. He'd said he'd be over later tonight, hadn't he? It was getting quite late – Hermione had to prepare for work, shower, and of course, catch some sleep. Her patience for Ron was quickly thinning. She understood why he might be mad at her, but he had no right, frankly. Hermione knew she didn't do anything to provoke Malfoy to go to the Wizengamot. In fact, Malfoy said he'd been getting on their case since just after his mother's death, which proved Hermione had nothing to do with Ron's trial. 

Finally frustrated enough to stop waiting, Hermione put on a pair of sleeping knickers and a long sleeved tee-shirt, preparing for bed.

She had just settled herself under the covers when a popping sound erupted from the center of the bedroom and a crash was heard as someone collided with the floor.

Alarmed, Hermione shrieked and reached for her wand, covering herself with the blankets.

"Who's there?" she demanded, her voice faltering.

She cast a _Lumos _charm and could see Ron straightening his clothes as he lifted himself from the ground.

He glanced at her sparingly and said roughly, "Calm down. It's me."

Hermione was livid. "Who the hell do you think you are?! I waited for hours and now you suddenly decide to fit me into your busy schedule?"

A slow snarl was spreading on Ron's face. "Just wait a minute, Hermione. If anyone should be angry at the other, it's me."

Hermione felt something snap inside her brain. She suddenly felt like shouting and kicking and punching at Ron. She was sick of his stubbornness.

She glared at him so fiercely that he actually physically moved himself back towards the door.

"Get over yourself," she hissed. "I've been having the worst few days of my life. First I make an utter fool of myself in front of the whole Ministry by getting piss-drunk. Then I wake up in Malfoy's bed, vulnerable and confused as anything. I manage to sever two of my best friendships in one day – one because I've got a big mouth, and the other because I can't control my drink. One of my best friends kicks me out and now I'm living in a hotel room. How the hell do you think I feel? You think this is a tea party for me?"

"You think this is a tea party for _me_?!" bellowed Ron. His face was strained and there were red splotches on his cheeks. "I'm being tried for murder, thanks to you! Thanks to you and Malfoy!"

"Damn you!" Hermione shrieked. "I had nothing to do with Malfoy's decision to try you! He said he'd been to the Wizengamot a year ago, and they only just got back to him. It's not my fault that by pure coincidence he gets a reply the same time as he re-enters my life!"

"'Re-enters your life'?" Ron roared. "What, are you dating him now too? Shagging him on the sidelines while my life is at stake?"

Hermione jumped out of bed and rushed at Ron from the other side of the room. Ron instinctively backed up against the door and Hermione thrust herself at him, scratching and hurting every inch of his body within her reach. She was shrieking and howling as she clawed at his arms and neck.

Ron tried to fight her off by holding her wrists firm, but Hermione kneed him in the midsection and he doubled over on himself, groaning.

Hermione didn't stop, all the while choking on sobs and yelling, "I hate you!"

When Ron managed to collect himself, he stood abruptly and pushed Hermione against the wall, holding her firm so she couldn't hurt him.

Hermione bared her teeth at him, almost daring him to try something.

"How dare you accuse me of that?" Hermione demanded. "You know I carry my morals in the highest regard – how dare you think I'd throw it all away for someone so loathsome as Malfoy?"

Ron relaxed his grip on Hermione, his shoulders slumping. He seemed defeated.

"Why can't things be simpler?" he asked himself pathetically. "Why can't we go back to Hogwarts?"

"You honestly think life at Hogwarts was any easier?" asked Hermione skeptically. She was still tense underneath Ron's grip but she continued, "You think fighting Voldemort each year and facing all those challenges is better than life right now?"

"Well I was never being tried for murder, was I?" snapped Ron.

He let go of Hermione and slumped to the floor, his back against the wall. His head hung in his hands and he didn't say anything further.

Hermione slid down beside him. She wasn't ready to forget their major fight, but she was willing to be there for Ron. Having as close a friendship with Ron as she did, she could easily switch from mega-bitch to sympathetic friend within seconds – she'd had enough experience with this during the War.

"I know that what you're going through right now is worse than what Harry or I is going through," said Hermione gently, "But that doesn't mean life is a piece of cake for us either. I know that this last week has been more stressful than the War and Hogwarts combined. Growing old means having to face challenges, and we may hate it, but we have to deal with it. There's not much we can do."

"What are mum and dad going to think when I tell them?" Ron asked. "I can't just not tell them; they'd find out eventually from the papers. A Quidditch star being tried for murder is not going to go unnoticed by the press."

"When exactly is your trial?" asked Hermione.

"Monday."

"What?!" gasped Hermione. "Is that even fair? You hardly got any notice! Do they really expect you to have a lawyer lined up and a proper case to defend you by Monday?"

Ron snorted bitterly. "When has the Wizengamot ever been fair? With Scrimgeour as the head prosecutor, you can bet I'm not going to be tried fairly. He hates me."

Hermione was worried. "Isn't Percy part of the Wizengamot? Surely he'll help you out."

Ron looked at her incredulously. "He gave up his whole family just to make it in the Ministry! He's not going to his reputation just to help his brother out. Who am I to him?"

"Dumbledore's the Chief Warlock; he'll not let you be tried unfairly. Nor will Griselda Marchbanks; she's as fair as any decent person," reassured Hermione. Truthfully speaking, she was reassuring herself just as much as Ron.

Something hit her though. "Did you say Monday?"

Ron sensed the hesitancy in her question and he looked up at her with inquiring eyes. "Yes. You'll be there, won't you?"

"That's my first day of work…" Hermione trailed off uncertainly.

Ron was starting to panic now. "My trial is first thing in the morning. You can't take some time off to be there?"

Hermione looked at him apologetically. "Ron, it's my first day…"

Ron nodded understandingly. "You're right. It would be selfish of me to ask that you be there."

Hermione felt horribly guilty. Somehow Ron's defeated resignation made her feel even worse.

She took his hand and squeezed it tightly. "I'll try my best to be there."


	18. The Trial

**Author's Note: **I'm sorry I didn't post last night – I'm actually not even home, but I'm writing this chapter in my sister's apartment. Not much new to report. The suspense that you've all hopefully been feeling will be resolved in this chapter, with the trial and Hermione's first day of work. Expect some unexpected twists.

As usual, read and review! Tell your friends if they like this sort of thing. I know, I know. I shouldn't shamelessly publicize myself, but what can I say? I like feedback, and the more the merrier.

* * *

Hermione was _not _happy.

She was running down the halls of the Ministry, doing this and doing that. Her new job was proving to be more stressful than it was worth, and she'd only been at it for one hour.

In truth, it probably wouldn't have been so hectic if she weren't trying to rush things. She was frantically trying to compress five hours of work into two, so that she could make it to Ron's trial.

She hadn't been able to check with Ron this morning. After he returned to his own home she had gone straight to sleep and had woken up at 5 this morning, not wanting to miss anything on her first day. She had no doubt that Ron was either in the stages of waking up right now or already eating breakfast, feeling horrified and scared.

His parents didn't even know yet. It was a miracle the news of the trial hadn't circulated as much. Scrimgeour had strictly forbidden the _Prophet_ to advertise the trial until it was over. The only newspaper in which Hermione saw news of the trial was the _Quibbler_, Luna Lovegood's newspaper. After her father's death, she had proudly taken over. Hermione regretted to inform that the newspaper wasn't much better with Luna as editor. It was, if at all possible, more ludicrous than it was before.

Luna vaguely mentioned a certain Quidditch star to be trialed for murder, though never revealing the name. The reason no one took her seriously was because she claimed it was for the murder of an African Nyphmigi Puff, whatever that was. For once Hermione appreciated Luna's insanity.

Presently Hermione was making rounds on the fourth floor, distributing portfolios to various members of her staff. The portfolios included their new working schedules, assignments and when they would be due, and meetings that would be coming up in the next month.

Hermione quite liked her staff. They were a large bunch, almost like a family. One girl she remembered vaguely from Hogwarts, Rose Zeller. She had been a few years behind Hermione, but she remembered the scared looking face of a pale girl with tight black curls, sitting on the infamous stool waiting to be sorted. Rose was a nice, if not quite shy, girl. She was hardworking, true to her Hufflepuff nature. The only small thing which annoyed Hermione about her was that she constantly needed reassurance. She was afraid to do anything without Hermione's permission and approval. When she was given an assignment or asked a question, she would fluster nervously and even once she had choked on her own spit.

Rose was currently in Hermione's office, filing the new influx of papers. Rose was only an under-Witch, who hadn't completed the necessary training needed to work at the Ministry. She was only 22, and had a very fragile, small frame. Her voice was soft and thin, and she had large, clear blue eyes. Hermione often felt nervous when Rose turned her eyes on her, because they were so intense.

Hermione finished handing the last Portfolio to Stebbins and rushed back to her office.

"Hello, Rose," she said politely, smiling at the girl.

Rose gave her a nervous smile and cleared her throat, and continued working. Hermione noticed that she was working with more speed now that she was in the room.

Hermione looked down at her watch and refrained from groaning aloud. Ron's trial would begin in half an hour and she still had lots to do. She had to meet with Orlinda Rawlins. She wanted to know how Hermione's first day was going and wanted to chat and have tea and all that. Normally Hermione would have been thrilled – she quite like Orlinda – but today just wasn't a good day. She was pressed for time and had to be there for Ron.

She gave a quick glance to Rose and chuckled. "Here Rose, let me help." She muttered a spell and the papers began to file themselves, with more accuracy and speed than Rose. "Why don't you help Stebbins with his assignment? It's a rather arduous task and I know he'd appreciate the help."

Rose cleared her throat again and muttered a soft, "Okay" and quickly made her way out of the room.

Hermione rushed out of the office as soon as Rose was gone, running towards the elevator to go to Orlinda's office.

"Hello darling," said Orlinda pleasantly when Hermione entered, breathless.

Hermione gave her a tired smile, trying to catch her breath.

"First day stress?" Orlinda noted. "Don't let it get you down, dear. It gets better, I promise."

"It really isn't so stressful," said Hermione, taking a seat opposite Orlinda. "I'm just trying to cram too much work into a small period of time."

"You'll be going to Mr. Weasley's trial, I take it?" asked Orlinda, sipping on a cup of tea.

Hermione blushed, embarrassed. "I wasn't trying to skive off work, honest…"

Orlinda grinned fabulously and put down her cup of tea. "Oh, I never said you were trying to skive off. I know your type – you never aim to displease. I'd be disappointed if you didn't go."

Orlinda winked. "Besides, you're your own boss now. It's not like you're going to fire yourself for being a compassionate and loyal friend."

Hermione laughed lightly, once again feeling the warmth of Orlinda's presence. She had that 'older woman' wisdom and ease, but she was still close within Hermione's age range to understand what Hermione was going through.

"I won't hold you up," said Orlinda. "You'll want to get down there a few minutes beforehand – give Mr. Weasley a pep talk and all that. I hope everything turns out for the best."

Hermione heaved a sigh of relief. She smiled gratefully at Orlinda and said, "Thank you so much. You have no idea how understanding you are."

Orlinda laughed and said, "Oh, thank you, thank you, darling. Stop by anytime!"

Hermione was already running out the door as fast as her pumps would allow her. She turned corners and raced by confused employees who stared after her in shock.

She was breathless by the time she reached the elevator.

Malfoy was in the elevator.

A complete sense of awkwardness overcame Hermione. What was she supposed to say to him? This trial was just as frustrating and nerve-wracking for him as it was for Ron, no doubt. After all, this trial was for the murder of his _mother. _Hermione had no right to call him heartless for accusing Ron of murder. She knew that if her own mother had been murdered, she would be just as cold. Family was a bond one could not break easily.

"How…how are you?" she asked timidly, looking up at him.

Malfoy had an unusual expression on his face. Somewhere between fear and indifference. Hermione could tell his mask of stoniness was getting harder and harder to put on each day.

"Fine," he replied curtly.

Hermione hesitantly reached out her hand and rested it on his arm. He flinched only slightly.

She said softly, "You don't always have to be strong, Malfoy. Any normal person would crumble under the pressure, and maybe it's time you did too. This is an emotional time and you can't keep hiding yourself from feeling."

"I'm fine, Granger," Malfoy repeated with more force.

"You're not," said Hermione boldly, taking momentum. "I may not know you so well, but I've known you long enough to know when you're struggling. I can see it in your eyes, in your face, in your movements. Draco Malfoy, you're not okay and I'm worried."

"You shouldn't be," he said monotonously. "You should be worrying about Weasley. He is, after all, the one being tried."

"I know that!" snapped Hermione. "Don't push me away for being concerned about your wellbeing. God knows you need someone to look after you; your friends obviously don't care and neither do you."

"Look, mind your own bloody business!" Malfoy retorted. "We don't need to have anything to do with each other."

Hermione could feel tears welling in her eyes. One fell as she whispered, aghast, "So that kiss? It meant nothing to you?"

Malfoy's snarl slowly fell off his face. He looked away from her and said nothing.

Hermione repeated, "Answer me, Malfoy! Did you honestly feel nothing?"

"I …" he trailed off hopelessly. For once, Malfoy didn't have a snappy retort.

Hermione felt a rush of anger and before she knew what she was doing, she had Malfoy thrust against the wall and she was kissing him fiercely. Her leg was wrapping itself around his body, pulling him closer. It was the angriest, most passionate kiss Hermione had ever experienced. Malfoy was biting her lip painfully and she was thrusting herself at him, clawing at his neck and moaning in his mouth.

She heard the elevator door open and she pulled away from him quickly.

"So tell me, Malfoy, did that mean anything to you?" she asked venomously, and stalked out of the elevator.

"Yes," Malfoy whispered inaudibly when Hermione was out of earshot.

Hermione found Ron in the courtroom, patting his knees as they bounced up and down.

She had stopped quickly in one of the employee lounges and picked up some coffee for him. She patted him on the back gently and he jumped up, surprised.

"Did you get much sleep last night?" she asked, handing him the coffee.

He accepted gratefully and drank. "A bit, yeah. I woke up really early this morning."

"Where's your lawyer?" Hermione asked, looking around.

"His name's Arnold Shweiber – he's conferring with Scrimgeour right now."

"Ron, don't be nervous. They can't possibly find you guilty if you didn't even do anything," Hermione reassured.

They sat in silence until Harry and Ginny came in, offering their own words of reassurance and kindess.

"Does anyone else know?" asked Ron morbidly.

"Not yet," said Ginny hesitantly. "But Ron, mum and dad and everyone else are bound to find out soon. If dad still worked in the Ministry he'd definitely know. The press isn't going to keep quiet much longer and trust me when I say mum and dad would rather hear it from you than from a newspaper."

"I just don't want them to disown me," said Ron weakly. "Can you imagine their shame? They'd get upset whenever Malfoy and I had a fight in school – how do you think they'll react when they find out I'm being tried for murdering Malfoy's mum?"

No one had anything to say to that. There weren't words kind or reassuring enough or even truthful enough to set Ron's mind at ease. Scrimgeour banged the mallet against the lectern and called the court into session. Hermione kissed him on the cheek and ruffled his hair, Ginny patted his shoulders and whispered last soothing words, and Harry's face was stony as he gave Ron small pieces of advice and finally embraced him.

The three made their way into the back seating area and left Ron by himself. Suddenly chains sprung from the chair and bound his arms to them. Ron looked startled but Hermione expected as much. Most Wizengamot cases that she had researched called for the accused to be bound to the chair.

Hermione heard a door open and looked back to see Malfoy striding forward with his black robes billowing behind him, a look of pure malice and boredom on his face. He didn't even look in Hermione's direction as he passed her, and he elegantly sat himself in a velvet chair on the other side of court from Ron.

"Mr. Malfoy, standard procedure calls that you be here well before the case begins," said Scrimgeour, slightly annoyed.

Malfoy favored him with a smirk, but said nothing.

Scrimgeour cleared his throat and continued, "Very well. Mr. Weasley, if you'll be so kind as to start us with the conventional procedure."

Percy looked high and mighty – and rather pompous – as he straightened in his wooden chair to the left of Scrimgeour. He quickly assembled his notes, cleared his throat also, and began.

"On the 14th of January, year 2006, Ronald Bilius Weasley is called to court to be tried by the full Wizengamot for the murder of Narcissa Black-Malfoy, mother of the appellee, Draco Malfoy."

Percy continued for a few moment more, describing the terms of the trial, the state in which Narcissa was found, and so on.

They questioned Malfoy first, asking him to be precise about what he found, when it happened, etc.

Arnold Shweiber was interrogating him mercilessly, throwing questions that might catch him off guard but Malfoy caught him each time with ease. He spoke languidly and never let anything take him by surprise.

"Mr. Malfoy, you say you came home to find your mother's body lying as it was. Why was it, pray tell, that you were not home with her? Surely you knew that the War was a dangerous time. Your father was a Death Eater and that portrayed great risk for your mother – why would you leave her by herself?"

Malfoy snarled at him, baring his teeth. His eyes glinted with hatred and slight insanity as he said, "So what you're implying is that I'm an irresponsible son, is it? I'm the son of a Death Eater so I can't possibly care about other people? I wasn't home because I was in hiding – something you very well know, I take it. It might have been a selfish decision, but it was the only wise one. My mother was not by herself; my father was still staying in the house. I thought since my father was in the high ranks of the Dark Lord's circle, both he and the Dark Lord would surely protect her."

Shweiber raised his eyebrows and said, "But Mr. Malfoy, our records show that Lucius Malfoy left his household just after the war started."

For a split second, Hermione thought she saw surprise in Malfoy's eyes. She doubted anyone else caught it, for the next second he was glaring at Ron's lawyer again.

"I can assure you that my father was present in the house with her. The only time he left was for convening with the Dark Lord or other Death Eaters. I know for a fact that he never put my mother in direct danger – he always did what he could to protect her without disobeying the Dark Lord," said Malfoy.

Was Malfoy actually defending his father? The father that he hated?

"Regardless, Mr. Malfoy, at the time of your mother's death she was definitely in the household alone, except for the Order members," said Shweiber.

The questioning continued. At one point Scrimgeour had to call order because Shweiber was becoming ruthless. Hermione had to applaud Ron at his choice for a lawyer – this man was doing everything he could to defend his client.

When it was Ron's turn for questioning the whole Wizengamot, along with Malfoy's lawyer, questioned him.

"Mr. Weasley, please state the intentions of the Order when they raided Malfoy Manor," said Griselda Marchbanks.

"It was a standard procedure," Ron stammered. "I was the head of the mission. It was strictly investigation – no spells were to be fired and no one was to be injured. We didn't see anyone in the house. We thought perhaps Narcissa was gone or something, we didn't know. We knew for a fact that Lucius wasn't there anymore so we assumed he either took Narcissa with him or she went into hiding."

"Who else went on this raid?"

"It was a small squad. Me, my brother Fred, Zacharias Smith – 'course he's dead now, Anthony Goldstein – dead too, and Lee Jordon."

"And you say you never saw Narcissa in the house?"

"No, I never did. We all split up in the house and went our separate ways to cover space and save time. We didn't find anything out of the ordinary. Lucius was smart and hid everything or took it with him. We were only in the house for two hours."

Just then, the main exit doors in the back slammed open, revealing Fred Weasley and two others behind him.

"What is the meaning of this?" asked Scrimgeour, outraged.

Ron's face turned white when he saw Fred.

"Forgive me, Minister," said Fred humbly. "I do have permission to be here and permission for being late. Thank you kindly, Miss Marchbanks." He winked at her.

Griselda Marchbanks winked back at him ever so slightly so that Scrimgeour didn't notice.

Fred strode down the aisle and Hermione saw that the two other people were Lee Jordon and, surprisingly, Antonin Dolohov.

Hermione stiffened when she saw him, unconsciously touching her throat. She remembered the battle at the Ministry in her 5th year and the damage that he did to her.

He looked old and tired now, his back was slightly crooked and he looked quite insane. The years after the war had evidently taken their toll on him.

"Lee Jordon and I were part of the raid at Malfoy Manor, and Dolohov here has some valuable information for you," said Fred, poking Dolohov with his wand until he was seated.

Scrimgeour refrained from rolling his eyes when he said, "Very well, Mr. Weasley, tell us what you've got."

"Well, it's actually just Lee who's got to talk to you. I just came along for the fun," said Fred gleefully.

Percy looked indignant at Fred's informal behavior.

"Alright then!" said an annoyed Scrimgeour, "Then Mr. Jordon, say what you've got to say and make it quick."

Lee looked affronted, like a bird who's feathers had been ruffled, and said, "Well Mr. Minister, during the raid when I was searching the house on my own, I noticed a shadowy figure in a corner of a bedroom, but when I glanced back it was gone. I didn't say anything, because after I'd gone through all the standard protection spells, I realized there probably wasn't anything there. Stupidly I kept my mouth shut, when clearly there really was a shadowy figure there."

Lee paused to gather his words and continued, "Today I realize that that was the shadow of Lucius Malfoy. He was in the house and that must have meant that Narcissa was too."

"And does what Dolohov have to say correlate with what you just said?" asked Percy eagerly.

Dolohov cleared his throat and said in his scratchy voice, "First off I'd like to reiterate my innocence, so you can't throw me back in Azkaban. I was let off after the war so I'm as innocent as you."

"Get on with it, convict," snarled Scrimgeour.

"Very well. What this man has just said is true. Lucius was in the household, but he wasn't living there. He was there because he received knowledge of the raid. Narcissa was in the house also, hiding in the kitchens in one of the cabinets. She heard talking upstairs and then she heard a door open and close, thinking that the Order members left. She stupidly left her hiding spot and went upstairs, unaware that Lucius was in the house also. Ron Weasley and the rest of the Order members were still wandering the house. Weasley was in the foyer and Lucius was crouching behind him. When Lucius saw that Narcissa was coming in his path, he took advantage of it. He realized he needed to get rid of Narcissa – she had been proving herself unfaithful to the Dark Lord and had been considering going to the Ministry. He put Weasley under the Imperius curse and forced him to kill her, later obliviating Weasley's memory of the past ten minutes and then he hid Narcissa's body."

The entire court room was silent, Dolohov's words ringing in their minds. This story was very different from Malfoy's. Apparently Lucius wasn't protecting Narcissa after all – he had caused her death.

"How can we trust what you're saying is true?" asked Scrimgeour suspiciously.

"I have written proof. This letter was written to the Dark Lord about the events from Lucius a day later."

Dolohov stood and handed an old looking parchment to Scrimgeour. Scrimgeour and the other members of the Wizengamot looked over the paper.

The court looked to Malfoy then, eyes suspecting.

"Mr. Malfoy, this story is quite different from yours," said Scrimgeour.

Malfoy's eyes were wide from Dolohov's story. His mask was forgotten and he looked tormented.

"He lied to me…" whispered Malfoy.

"What's that, boy?" asked Scrimgeour sharply.

"Snape would keep me informed about my father and mother during the War. He told me my father was doing everything in his power to protect my mother," said Malfoy, sounding for all the world like a disappointed little boy.

On the other side of the court, Ron wasn't doing much better. He had just been hit with the information that he did indeed kill someone, albeit unknowingly. Imperius curse or not, he had killed someone. He was a murderer.

The Wizengamot convened to decide an outcome to the trial.

Several minutes later Griselda declared, "Recent conspiring events show that Ronald Weasley did indeed kill Narcissa Malfoy under an Imperius curse. The Imperius constitutes that the victim has no control over his acts and that, caught off-guard, it is almost impossible to throw off. The court hereby finds Ronald Weasley innocent, and Lucius Malfoy guilty."

Hermione almost cried with happiness. Around her Ginny and Harry and Fred and Lee were all sighing with relief.

"As Lucius Malfoy is no longer with us, no punishment can come to him. Morally, everyone in this room should be aware that the murder was brutal and heartless," said Griselda. "I hereby resign this session. Mr. Weasley, you are a free man."

Scrimgeour banged the mallet again and the court was officially dismissed.

Hermione ran to Ron and embraced him and kissed him several times. She noticed that he was stiff beneath her and didn't look as happy as he should have been.

"What's wrong?" she asked, concerned.

"I don't want to talk right now," said Ron glumly. "I need to talk to my parents and think things over. Tell the others I'll see them later, I guess."

He resignedly walked out of the courtroom without saying anything to anyone else and left the others surprised.

"Why's he leaving without us?" asked Ginny, upset.

Harry's face was stony as he said, "Gin, you probably won't understand, but he needs to be alone. During the War he never killed anyone – he injured plenty but killed no one. I was always the one that killed because I felt more hatred than anyone else. So now Ron gets hit in the face with the fact that he really is a killer, even if he had no choice in it. How would you feel if you found out you killed someone innocent so ruthlessly without even knowing it?"

"But he's not guilty, he's innocent," protested Ginny. Her eyes were starting to fire up. "He was under the Imperius curse, so it wasn't his fault!"

Harry said agitatedly, "Let it go, Ginny. Give Ron his space for a while – he'll come to us when he wants to."

Suddenly what should have been a happy occasion became an angry and confused one. Ginny stalked out angrily followed by an irritated Harry. Fred and Lee left, also feeling less than happy.

Hermione stood there.

She felt a tap on her shoulder and turned around. Malfoy was standing timidly in front of her.

Hermione heaved a sigh and gave him a hug, letting all of her energy go so that she was relying on Malfoy for support. He never let her waver, holding her tightly and steadily.

"I'm so, so sorry," Hermione whispered into his chest, her words muffled. "Everything turned out wrong. You're not happy, Ron's not happy, I'm not happy, no one is."

Malfoy rubbed her back encouragingly. "Can we talk about something a bit more fruitful? I feel like I've had too much seriousness today."

"I have to get back to work," Hermione groaned against him. "Can we talk later? About us and where we stand?"

Malfoy paused, skipping a beat. He recovered quickly, saying, "I think that would be wise. I'll meet you in your office later."

He squeezed her arm and let her go, walking away.

Hermione hesitated before she ran up behind him and turned him around, giving him a kiss.

It was chaste and promised many more to come.


	19. Bliss

"So."

Draco cleared his throat.

Hermione was sitting uncomfortably in her seat at her desk opposite Draco. He had arrived in the afternoon after the trial and they were now sitting while the silence ensued.

She laughed nervously and then said, "Would you rather we went to a less formal environment? I feel terribly awkward."

"Yes!" said Draco suddenly, jumping out of his seat. Clearly he wasn't as comfortable as he'd been letting on.

"We could go back to my room at the Leaky Cauldron," suggested Hermione. "It's not far from here."

"Right," said Draco. "Well, I'll uh, see you there."

They both Apparated out. During the split second that she was away from Draco she pondered what to say. She touched down in her bedroom and not much later so did Draco.

"Shall I get you some coffee?" asked Hermione hospitably.

"Oh, no, I'm fine," said Draco.

More silence.

"Well I guess I'll…change out of these clothes. I'll be right back," said Hermione walking into the washroom.

She changed out of her business robes and put on Muggle clothing consisting of a white tee-shirt with a gray cardigan on top and a simple pair of faded jeans.

When she came out Draco was sitting with his legs crossed elegantly on one of the parlor chairs and Hermione magicked herself a cup of coffee.

Tucking her legs underneath her on an adjacent chair she said, "So. Let's talk."

When Draco seemed hesitant to talk first Hermione cut in saying, "Look, I like you. I don't know why but I do. I think about you all the time and I can't stop thinking about that kiss in your manor."

She blushed slightly but held her head up, determined to get everything out.

A small smirk was forming on Draco's face and Hermione was disbelieving. He was actually smirking at a time like this?

"Wow, don't hold anything back, Granger," he drawled.

Hermione gaped at him, ready to throw him out of the hotel room should he get too cocky or superior, but he humbled and smiled slightly at her.

"For a long time I felt like I couldn't like you, couldn't even talk to you, because of my father. I grew up with an obscure set of morals – never associating with Muggles or muggle-borns because they were less than human, making people feel inferior. As I grew up around my father and the Dark Lord, I realized I didn't want that. I always thought the Dark Lord was a powerful man who knew everything, but when I met him – when I heard his girlish voice and saw his inhuman face – I couldn't do it. I couldn't sacrifice my soul to someone – some_thing _– so repulsive and unfeeling.

"But I couldn't just say no. Inside I hated the Dark Lord but outside I had to pretend. I had to pledge to him, get branded against my will. All to save myself from my father's wrath. My mother was the only one who cared about my wellbeing. During my 5th year my father and mother fought constantly over my future. In the end my father won and during the summer of my 5th year I was branded. I was a Death Eater. You know the rest. You know what happened during our 6th year and how I fled with Snape. Snape cared about me along with my mother. I didn't think I would return to Hogwarts the next year, but I did. The war was postponed for another year. My last year at Hogwarts. When the War started I knew I couldn't fight in it. I couldn't fight with Potter but I couldn't fight with my father either. I went into hiding with Snape and Pettigrew and didn't emerge until it was over.

"After the War and after my father's death I knew something had to change. I didn't like what I had become. I just wanted to do every possible thing to defy my father, to prove I wasn't under his control anymore. The worst possible thing I could have done was work with Muggles. I took the job as Muggle-Magic correspondent at the Ministry and made my way up to working directly with the Minister for Magic. And you know what? I loved my job. I love diplomacy and economics and power. I had all of that and I didn't mind in the slightest that I was working with Muggles. I found Muggle technology and culture fascinating and I realized what I'd been missing my whole life. What I'd been taught to hate for my whole life."

Hermione was silent and attentive the whole time. She was immersed in Draco's tale, understanding completely now why he had been so horrible during their school days. He was just a tormented boy who had finally found his freedom.

He was fidgeting with the hem of his sweater when he continued.

"When I met you again at the Portkey station, it was like a slap in the face. You brought back all these memories that I'd been trying so hard to suppress. I couldn't deal with my father's death or the War or what I used to be, so I shut you out. I became that bastard Draco Malfoy from Hogwarts again and I didn't know how to get back to the real world. I avoided you but circumstances put us together. I realized that the more I was with you, the stronger I became. I could fight off my father's ghost, I could become the man I've always wanted to be, and it's all because of you. And so here I am, begging you to forgive me for everything I've done to you, because I want you, Hermione Granger. I want you, body and soul."

Hermione felt slow tears falling down her cheeks and dripping onto her cardigan. She didn't know why she felt so happy all of a sudden, but she could feel herself grinning.

She jumped out of her seat and ran to Draco, his arms reaching out to embrace her. She sat in his lap and buried her face into his neck, laughing happily.

He kissed her slowly at first, then with more speed and urgency. He was hungry for her. Now that he knew she was his to keep, he wanted every inch of her.

He lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him closer to her by putting her hands on the back of his neck. She moaned in his mouth pleasurably, causing him to pull her waist into him. He was walking now, but Hermione didn't care what he did, as long as he never stopped kissing her.

She couldn't believe she had missed out on physical contact for all of her life. Her kisses with Viktor and the small ones with Ron had been nothing compared to this. Draco's kisses were toxic – sickly sweet and addicting. She could always taste the mint in his mouth and smell the faint air of cigarette smoke on his clothes. She wanted to devour him.

Suddenly she fell back against the bed and she yelped, startled. Draco was still kissing her hungrily, his hand slowly making its way up the back of her shirt.

When his hand touched the back of her bra, she pushed him off, suddenly alert.

He looked up at her from the ground, confused and annoyed.

"What were you doing?" she asked sharply.

He looked at her weirdly, one of his eyebrows raised condescendingly. "I was experiencing possibly the hottest kiss in the world."

"But your hand was…"

"Oh," said Draco, finally understanding. "I forgot you'd never done it."

Hermione blushed deeply, her face suddenly feeling hot. "You probably think I'm a prude now – "

"Nonsense Granger – Hermione," said Draco. "It's alright, really. We don't have to do that."

"But you want to," pressed Hermione.

"Well, yes, darling, I'm a guy," he laughed, running a hand through his hair.

Hermione sighed, frustrated, and flopped back onto the bed, looking up at the ceiling.

Draco got off the floor and lay on the bed beside her, playing with her hair.

"You know, I never used to like your hair," said Draco randomly. Hermione couldn't believe he was talking about something so irrelevant, but he continued. "I like it now. I like running my hands through it."

"I'm really sorry about this," apologized Hermione. "I thought I would be okay with it, but evidently I'm a senile old woman when it comes to sex."

Draco kissed her cheek sloppily and said, "Yeah, you are. You're 26, Hermione. Most girls have been sleeping around since Hogwarts. I remember the first time I did it – with Pansy Bloody Parkinson in my 4th year."

Hermione gaped at him. "4th year? You were…you were only 14, Malfoy!"

"Bit old, I know," he said airily. "It was the worst first time ever. Pansy kept moaning with pain the whole time, and once she even threw me off the bed, much like you just did. It got a lot better though. Those Hufflepuffs…well, you'd never expect them to be so willing or experienced."

Hermione smacked his chest and he caught her hand, bringing it to his lips. "I don't mind if you don't want to have sex yet. Or ever. God knows I've had enough sex for five men combined."

"You shouldn't tell your girlfriend these things," said Hermione acidly. She paused, embarrassed, when she realized what she just said. "I mean, I'm not saying I _am_ your girlfriend – "

"Will you be?" asked Draco. "I know you wouldn't be comfortable with an open relationship."

Hermione favored him with a beautiful smile and said, "When did you get to be so accommodating?"

"You think that's accommodating?" said Draco evilly, and he pulled Hermione towards him, immersing her in those addictive kisses again.

Draco was careful not to do anything to make Hermione uncomfortable, so for the rest of the evening they alternated between kisses and laying on her bed in silent bliss.

* * *

When Hermione awoke the next morning to find Draco Malfoy, shirtless, sleeping in her bed, she was horrified and startled. 

She yelped and leapt back off the bed, causing Malfoy to stir slightly. He grunted and turned to the other side and Hermione was left to gape at him.

She looked down at herself and was relieved to find out she was still fully clothed. Did anything happen last night?

She shoved at Malfoy violently and he didn't respond lightly. He yelled obscenities at her, though he was clearly not awake enough to make sense. When she shoved him again he jolted up and fixed her with a stern glare.

"What?" he snapped.

He clearly was not a morning person.

"What are you doing here?" she asked slowly, as if speaking to a child.

"Don't patronize me," he snapped again. "What do you mean what am I doing here?"

He looked down at his bare chest and smirked when he looked back up at Hermione. He said, "Your level of prudery astounds me more and more, Granger."

"I'm not a prude!" she protested, her face beginning to feel hot. "You obviously don't mind my kisses…"

"No, definitely don't mind those," he chuckled. "Would you like me to put a shirt on? Don't like the big, bad man with his shirt off? Of course not, what would mummy say?"

She huffed at him and stalked out of the bedroom to make herself a cup of coffee. She couldn't argue with Malfoy this early in the morning without some caffeine in her system. He was like a petulant child, always justifying himself and acting like a condescending son of a bitch. Most of the time she found it sexy and it proved his wit, but when it was directed at her she felt stupid and vulnerable.

Moments later she felt arms wrapping around her waist and soft lips kissing her neck.

"Is this how it's always going to be?" Draco murmered as he caressed her. "I don't mind the making up bit; it's just the arguing in the morning which offsets me."

Hermione held steady, ignoring him. She let him kiss her neck but didn't respond in this slightest.

He turned her around in one swift move so she was facing him, and he forced her chin up so she could look him in the eye. He dipped his head down toward hers and gave her a long, sweet kiss. His tongue swept hers and pleasantly surprised her as he bit softly on her lower lip.

When he retreated Hermione smiled and smacked his chest.

"You're so skinny," she said, looking at his chest.

Malfoy was most indignant. "I happen to be a muscular son of a bitch, thank you very much."

"Muscular?" Hermione snorted. "In what sense of the word? You're just a tall sack of skin and bones."

"I can say the same about you," retorted Malfoy. "Look at that flat chest! What are you, a boy?"

Hermione gaped at him, shocked. She could feel a slight blush creeping up her neck as she glanced down at herself.

Malfoy laughed above her and brought her close. "I'm just kidding. Frankly, I love that flat chest of yours; I find it sexy and androgynous. You've got that hot librarian look…I've never shagged a librarian before."

"And you never will if you keep this up," she scolded, turning away from him to drink her coffee.

He yawned loudly and stretched beside her, looking like an adorable little boy who's just woken up from his nap. Hermione admired his manly yet boyish good looks. He had a slender and pointed pale face, with the softest yellow-white hair – almost like a chick's feathers. He was skinny, true, but it was in the nicest way. Hermione loved being able to wrap her arms tightly around his waist and smell his distinct scent – that scent of cloves and cigarette smoke. His eyes were so large and gray that she sometimes just wanted to dive right into them and drink up the silver, which was surrounded by long black lashes. The black lashes against his light hair and pale face made his eyes seem larger and she loved it. She would never admit to Malfoy that she felt plain and ugly in comparison to him. What would people say when they found out they were dating? Would women along the street look at her with contempt and think, how ugly is she next to Malfoy?

"Something wrong?" Malfoy asked, snapping her back to him.

"No, no," she said hurriedly. "I'm still getting used to us, is all."

"Well we have to get to work," said Malfoy. "I'm really not looking forward to seeing Scrimgeour's vampiric face this morning."

Hermione groaned outwardly and leaned against him, not wanting to go to work.

"Will you meet me for lunch?" she asked him.

"Mm, now that I can look forward to," he said.

He kissed her again and said his goodbyes before he Apparated back to his Manor to prepare for the day.

Despite feeling plain next to Malfoy, Hermione now had a newfound confidence. She had a boyfriend. A rich, handsome, powerful boyfriend. That wasn't even why she liked him – she liked the thought of being someone's girlfriend. It made her feel better about herself, because Malfoy had chosen _her. _He could have had any girl he wanted – and indeed he often did end up "having" them – but he had chosen her to be his girlfriend. She wasn't just a shag; in fact, Malfoy wasn't getting any of that from her, and he was still with her.

She hummed happily as she dove into her suitcase and brought out another business suit, though this one with a shorter skirt and tight red Oxford shirt. She felt like dressing up a bit today.

As she was changing she absentmindedly thought about where she would live. She couldn't possibly live in a hotel room forever – the expense alone would clean her bank account out. She supposed she could think about buying or renting a place of her own, since she didn't want to bother Ginny again. When she had enough money to buy a nice place maybe she would, but for the short-term she would stay at the Leaky Cauldron. It was her only option.

* * *

Work was a lot more fun than she expected. She spent the day prepping for her first meeting with the Muggle Prime Minister which was the next day. Rose was a bit more talkative than usual and helped her out tremendously.

Her new staff had taken to her well and was always warm with her. Hermione was more than relieved, since she had been worrying about getting along with her employees the most. Orlinda stopped by briefly and chatted with her, putting her in a lighter mood.

She saw Harry once during the day and took advantage of their 15 minutes together.

"How's Ron doing?" Hermione asked him.

Harry shrugged. "I haven't spoken with him since the trial. Fred told me he's staying with Molly and Arthur for a few days. To clear his head and whatnot."

Hermione winced and asked, "How did they take it? Were they upset?"

Harry looked at her thoughtfully. "You know, I'm not sure, but I personally think they were accepting about it. They're Ron's parents, after all, and they must have seen what a distress Ron was in. He's beating himself up about it and Molly and Arthur know he didn't do it on purpose. It was just the result of an evil man's antics."

"I hope he's himself again soon," said Hermione. "I hate to think of him hurting like this."

"He just needs some time to think about his life," reassured Harry. "This trial has probably opened his eyes to a lot of things in his life, and he just needs to set his priorities straight. I know he'll come out victorious – I went through a lot of those down periods before, during, and after the War, and I know how he must feel. Just give him some space for a while."

"I have something to tell you too," said Hermione hesitantly. "To tell all of you, actually. I'm…well…Malfoy and I…"

Surprisingly, Harry smiled at her encouragingly. "I know. I saw you and Malfoy kissing yesterday after the trial."

"You did?" said Hermione, aghast.

"Don't look so frightened, I'm not the one you should be afraid of," chuckled Harry. "When Ron finds out you two are dating he'll probably curse Malfoy into oblivion."

"But you're okay with it?" Hermione inquired.

"I don't love Malfoy, as you very well know," said Harry sharply. "But who am I to invade your right to happiness? You can't help who you fall in love with. If you're happy, I'm happy, and there's nothing more to it. Be with him and be happy, if that's what you truly want."

Hermione smiled at him. "It is. It is what I truly want. He makes me so happy, you wouldn't believe it. He's nothing like the Malfoy we knew at Hogwarts – I know you'll see the change in him."

Harry kissed the top of her head. "I'm glad. You deserve some bliss."


	20. A Fight, A Meeting, A Reconciliation

**Author's Note: **I hope everyone's been enjoying this fic. I know I've only got a few readers but that's more than enough for me. The next chapter will be the last chapter, and I need some time to write it, so there probably won't be an update on Monday. Thanks to everyone who's reviewed!

* * *

The next week was one of the best of Hermione's life. 

Every morning she woke up feeling happy. She wasn't afraid to open her eyes anymore, wasn't afraid of the day and what dangers may lay ahead. Each morning she woke with a fire in her heart, wanting to see Draco and be with him.

They had lunch together every day and sometimes he would come by her office randomly and surprise her. It was happiness at its best.

When she woke this morning, she could feel the warmth of the sun's rays playing on her face. She basked in it, her eyes still closed and a small smile tugging on the corners of her mouth. She breathed deeply and felt complete. Draco completed her.

Why was it, then, that she went into his office to find Draco with another girl? An incredibly beautiful girl. The girl had her hands running through his hair and she was kissing him fiercely, the way Hermione kissed him when she hadn't seen him all day.

Hermione wasn't surprised. She was a pragmatic and slightly cynical witch, and she knew the facts. Draco was handsome, rich, charming, and extremely powerful. He could have any girl he wanted and just now it proved it. Hermione wasn't going to lie – throughout the week she had secretly wondered why on earth Draco would choose her. There were plenty of other smart witches who just happened to be a lot prettier than Hermione. Hermione and Draco came from completely different backgrounds – she was a muggle-born witch who came from a middle-class family, and Draco was a pureblood who came from a prestigious and extremely rich family. It was a wonder they had gotten along as well as they did during the short-lived relationship.

In all honesty, Hermione expected this. She wasn't going to confront Draco or yell at him. She was just going to end the relationship calmly and like an adult. She just wished Draco hadn't cheated on her. She would have understood if he broke up with her first and then made out with another girl – but instead he cheated on her, and humiliated her. Hermione was now doubting herself – am I really so unbearable? Am I really as ugly as I thought?

The rest of her day didn't go quite as smoothly as she'd hoped. She made sure not to be around her office during lunch because she didn't want to face Draco. Instead she Apparated nearby a Muggle restaurant and ate by herself, contemplating the best way to end things with Draco. She felt depressed. She had really enjoyed her time with Draco. He made her feel good and he wasn't a sap, just the way Hermione liked him. He was charming and witty and wasn't afraid to tell her how he really felt and Hermione valued that. She valued honesty above all in a relationship, but evidently Draco wasn't being honest anymore.

Sitting at her desk at the end of the day, an owl tapped at her window. She recognized it as Ginny's and quickly opened the window and shut it again to avoid bringing in the cold air.

It read:

_Hermione,_

_I feel like I haven't seen you at all since the trial. I'm so sorry about having to ask you to leave – I hope you understand why. If you're still willing, I'd love it if you came back. I promise I won't kick you out again and I'll do all the cleaning around the house too. Harry tells me you're seeing someone, but not who. I WANT TO KNOW WHO. _

_I'm so sorry again and I want to talk – meet me for coffee at Fortescue's when you're done at work?_

_Love you,_

_Gin._

Within the hour Hermione was sitting inside of Fortescue's enjoying a hot cup of coffee and reading the _Daily Prophet_, as Ginny had yet to arrive.

Ginny burst through the door, the bells on the doorknob ringing loudly. She scanned the premises quickly and spotted Hermione in a corner and made her way to the table.

Hermione stood and hugged her tightly. It felt like a long hug and Hermione needed that support.

"So sorry I'm late," apologized Ginny. "My boss made me re-stack all the new merchandise. And that was an awfully desperate hug – everything alright?"

"Not really," said Hermione nonchalantly. "That relationship I'm in? Yeah, I'm not in it anymore, I don't think."

"Oh, Hermione!" said Ginny. "Tell me all about it. Who are you dating first of all?"

"Draco Malfoy."

When Ginny tried to suppress a smile Hermione frowned.

She said, "Don't tell me you knew too. Harry wasn't even surprised when I told him."

"Well, I'm rather perceptive," said Ginny cheekily. "I expected it for a while. Ever since you told me he bought you dress robes from Gladrags, actually. That and Colin and I have been talking a great deal lately."

"Lousy little bugger," said Hermione fondly.

"And what's wrong with the relationship?"

"It was absolutely perfect until this morning," said Hermione. "I caught him making out with a gorgeous girl."

Ginny's jaw dropped. "You didn't! That's so scandalous!"

"Yeah, well, I'm pretty sure he'll want to break up with me now," said Hermione dejectedly. "And it just bums me out – it only lasted for a week, you know? I was really happy."

"Have you heard his side of the story?" asked Ginny thoughtfully. "I mean maybe you should talk to him about it first before you jump to conclusions."

"Jump to conclusions?" said Hermione loudly. "I saw it with my own eyes – I wasn't jumping to any conclusions!"

"I'm not saying you were hallucinating or anything, but there are always two sides to every story. As your best friend, I recommend you talk to him and get the facts straight. It might not have been intentional, after all," said Ginny logically.

"I don't want to embarrass myself," said Hermione pathetically. "I just want to break up with him before he breaks up with me."

Ginny frowned at her, disappointed. "That's always been your problem, Hermione. You're afraid of getting hurt or humiliated so you either hurt the other person first or just steel yourself altogether. Sometimes you're just like ice."

Despite her best efforts to negate Ginny's statement, Hermione knew it was true. Ever since the War she had completely cut herself off. She was weary of new people and didn't get too attached for fear of being turned on. The fact that she had gotten so attached to Draco proved she was letting her façade slip. She and Draco were alike in that aspect and she hadn't even realized it until now – they were both afraid of getting hurt.

"Thanks, Gin," said Hermione with newfound confidence. "I think…I think I'm going to talk to him."

"That's my girl!" cheered Ginny. "Be sure to let me know how it turns out. I wish you the best, 'Mione."

* * *

When Hermione returned to her room at the Leaky Cauldron she found that a note had been slipped under the door. 

Picking it up, it read:

_Hermione,_

_I didn't see you all day. You weren't at your office when I stopped by around noon and you left right after work, it seems. You weren't around when I came by here either. Everything alright?_

_Come by my place after you read this._

_Draco._

Hermione steeled herself once more and took a deep breath. She changed out of her work clothes and put on a casual skirt and top and flooed to Draco's manor.

A house-elf was there greet her and take her coat and bag and he led her to a sitting parlor.

Minutes later Draco came in with a smile on his face.

"Well, if it isn't my favorite frizz ball," said Draco teasingly as he dipped down to give her a kiss.

Hermione reciprocated only half-heartedly and Draco took note.

"Is everything okay?" he asked.

The confidence Hermione had back at Fortescue's was now gone and she swallowed a few times before she responded.

"Fine," she said weakly, smiling up at him.

He looked as if he didn't believe her but he didn't pursue any further. He sank down on the sofa beside her and took her hand in his.

"Work sucked today," he said flatly.

"I'm sorry that it did," said Hermione politely.

For the next fifteen minutes Draco seemed to ignore Hermione's unusual behavior.

Finally he was annoyed enough to question her again.

"What the hell is wrong?" he asked warily.

Hermione was looking down at her hands, which were clasped together tightly on her lap. She fiddled her thumbs and thought of the best way to say, 'I want to break up.'

There really wasn't a best way to say it.

"This isn't working out for me," she said emotionlessly, as if it had been rehearsed many times. "I think we should break up."

"I'm sorry?" said Draco, surprised.

"Yeah," said Hermione. "It's just not working out."

She got up to leave quickly but Draco caught her arm and pulled her back to him.

"Why?"

"I just don't think we're good with each other," said Hermione, wishing desperately that Draco would let go of her arm so she could run, run far away.

"That's bollocks and you know it," snapped Draco. "Where the hell is this coming from?"

Hermione really didn't want to bring up the fact that she'd seen Draco with another girl. She didn't want to embarrass herself again nor did she want to hear Draco's excuse.

"Please let go of me," she said calmly, trying to reach out of Draco's grasp.

He held her arm tightly and said, "What is it, is it another guy?"

Hermione felt something snap in her head. He had the _audacity_ to ask her if she'd been cheating? How dare he!

"Excuse me?" hissed Hermione, her body shaking. "You're asking me if I've found someone else? I should be asking you the very same question."

There was a slight falter in Draco's voice as he said, "What are you talking about?"

"Don't play dumb with me," said Hermione venomously, "I saw you this morning. Making out with a gorgeous girl."

"I…it's not what you think," said Draco weakly. "Please believe me."

"Why should I? You've given me no reason to," spat Hermione. "You weren't even going to tell me about it, were you? You were just going to lead me on blindly all the while you were having another girl on the sidelines."

"No, it's not like that," pleaded Draco. "This wasn't an ongoing thing – it was the first and last time it happened. She was just an old girlfriend; I don't even remember her name."

"And that's supposed to make me feel better?!" laughed Hermione hysterically. "How am I supposed to feel when you tell me you don't even remember your past girlfriend's name? If we broke up would I just become another nameless fling?"

"No!" protested Draco forcefully. "And we're not breaking up!"

"Said who?" retorted Hermione.

Draco became frustrated and he stood up with momentum.

He spread his arms wide and gestured to himself. He said loudly, "This is what you get, Hermione. This is who I am. I'm Draco Fucking Malfoy and you can't change that. I can't even change that, no matter how hard I try.

"I didn't cheat on you. Trust me when I say that. God, you don't even realize how in love with you I am, do you? You ask why I'd bother with you when I could have anyone I wanted – well it's because it's you that I want. I'm sick of having to prove myself to you because it's not my fault if you're just some paranoid bitch."

Hermione felt a slow snarl playing on her face. When her teeth were fully bared she spat, "We're through."

She stopped in front of him to slap him hard across the face, the sound echoing in the large room.

She gathered her coat and purse and Apparated out, furious and crying.

She arrived at Ginny's house, sobbing.

Harry was at Ginny's as well and he Apparated to the Leaky Cauldron to gather Hermione's things, under Ginny's instruction.

Meanwhile Hermione was sobbing on Ginny's shoulder, while Ginny hugged her tightly and tried to calm her down by whispering soothing things to her.

Hermione fell asleep on Ginny's couch feeling dejected and despaired.

She woke up feeling the same way, only this time with a lot of panic mixed in – today was her meeting with the Muggle Prime Minister, Tony Blair.

Ginny made her some Pepper-Up Potion and had already laid out a professional outfit for Hermione to wear. She loved Ginny dearly that morning.

She arrived in the Ministry that morning only to give her staff directions about what they were to do that day. She left Stebbins in charge and she made sure to tell him that Rose Zeller needed constant reassurance.

She was in and out of the Ministry within an hour, for which she was very grateful as she really didn't want to run into Draco.

She Apparated outside of a grand building in Muggle London and straightened her clothes. She had a thick portfolio tucked neatly under her arm and she felt as ready as she'd ever be.

A posh-looking secretary led her to the Prime Minister's office and told her to kindly wait until the Prime Minister arrived that morning.

While Hermione was sitting there, she thought of what she'd say. She had known of Tony Blair since before she'd become a witch and she wasn't at all fond of his policies. She was, frankly, glad he would be retiring the following year in September.

He entered looking like a normal man and smiled at her politely.

"Miss Granger, was it?" he asked her good-naturedly.

"Yes, sir, it's very good to meet you," she said professionally, extending her hand.

The Prime Minister was followed by three other men, all looking either bored or tired. They all sat at a round table by Blair's large desk and shuffled their papers. To them this meeting seemed like a daily routine. Hermione was anxious to make a good impression.

"Well, Miss Granger, I trust you know I'm planning to officially step down as Prime Minister next year," said Blair, taking a seat.

"I do, sir," responded Hermione.

"I don't want to do anything drastic this year," said Blair. "My prime focus is to keep the peace and stability."

"I understand that," agreed Hermione. "As a representative from the Magical Ministry for Magic, I agree whole-heartedly. We're not looking to start anything; our goal is to keep peace between the magical and non-magical communities."

One of the three men, a younger man of about 35 said suddenly, "I don't mean to be abrupt, but I've heard about Scrimgeour's plan to use Muggle technology to harness magical power."

Hermione blushed slightly, as she'd been hoping no one would bring that up. She was not qualified to talk about this subject and would surely get a stern 'talking to' from the Minister for Magic himself if she said anything wrong.

She said delicately, "He has not yet put anything into action. Of course, he would not do anything that is outside of the guidelines of our relationship with you."

"Isn't that a bit brass, though?" countered the man. "As if the magical community doesn't already have an advantage over us. Why should he even consider using our technology to further his own people?"

Hermione was at a loss for words. Personally, she agreed with this man. As a muggle-born witch, she had responsibilities to both Muggles and wizards. Right now she was representing the magical people, but that didn't mean she couldn't put her own opinion in.

"Sir, I am a muggle-born witch," explained Hermione. "Both of my parents are Muggles. I was a Muggle before I became a witch and I have not forgotten that part of my life. Speaking strictly off the record, I agree. Scrimgeour's policy of furthering the magical community and leaving the Muggle community behind is both politically and ethically wrong."

"Do you have any power within the Ministry to stop this?" asked Blair conversationally. "I can't stress enough how important it is to me to keep my people safe from harm."

"I highly doubt Scrimgeour would be so rash," reassured Hermione. "A majority of the Muggle population is unaware of our community. He has been, as of late, considering the idea of coming out to the Muggle public, but I strongly disapprove. It's not the right time – Muggles still need to make peace within themselves before they can accept an idea so large as magic."

Another man of the three, this one bald and with glasses, said, "But you can't keep it a secret for so long. The magical people are a very large population – every country in the world has some percentage of magical people. Your barriers will not hold for long."

The rest of the meeting continued similarly – Hermione trying to appease the Muggle political party and at the same time represent her Ministry well.

Just before leaving, Blair shook hands with her firmly again.

"You're a very bright woman," he complimented. "It's about time they sent a qualified witch who represents both the magical and non-magical community. I look forward to meeting you again."

Hermione felt light-hearted and happy as she Apparated back to the Ministry. She still had some paperwork to finish and had to look over the staff's work. Stebbins had left her a detailed report of everyone's activities and the work that still needed to be finished.

She was surprised an hour later when Scrimgeour walked into her office.

He looked pleased and said, "I've just received a letter from the Muggle Prime Minister. He says he's very pleased with you and that he believes his team, along with your help, will achieve a lot this year. Congratulations, Miss Granger."

He patted her awkwardly on the back and made his way out.

Hermione was flying. She was proud of herself and completely happy. As long as she didn't think of Draco, she would be happy for the rest of the evening.

She went back to Ginny's place, feeling great. Ginny was still at work and Harry wasn't around either, so Hermione made herself a sandwich and basked in her glory.

She heard the distant jingle of her cell phone ringing and rushed to find it. It was Colin.

"Colin!" Hermione exclaimed. "Hello, hello! How are you?"

"Someone sounds extremely happy," he noted.

"Well, it just so happens that I had a fantastic day at work today. I met with Tony Blair and he complimented me!"

"That's wonderful," Colin laughed. "Did you tell Malfoy your good news?"

Hermione paused. She really didn't want to think about him today.

"Hermione?" asked Colin hesitantly.

"We broke up," said Hermione abruptly.

"Uh…so soon?" asked Colin. "Are you okay?"

"Not really," said Hermione, "But I don't really want to think or talk about him right now."

"That's fine," said Colin. "I hope you feel better. I have to…do something. I'll talk to you later, love."

Hermione felt confused by the end of the conversation. Colin had sounded weird just then.

When Ginny came home she was all smiles and giggles. Harry followed behind her, an excited look in his eyes.

"Guess what?" Ginny sing-songed.

"What?" asked Hermione, smiling.

"I've got a new job!" exclaimed Ginny. "I was so frustrated at work today – my boss is such an _arse­_- that I all out and quit!

"Ginny!" gasped Hermione, horrified.

"But it's okay!" reassured Ginny. "Because….drum roll please, Harry … I'm going to be an interior designer!"

"Gin, that's perfect!" gushed Hermione. "Tell me all about it!"

"That book you gave me for Christmas, it has an updated list of interior designers looking for apprentices," explained Ginny. "Griselda Marchbanks' niece, Bryony, is an accomplished interior designer. She's done all the greatest people's houses – she worked on a house for the bass player of the Weird Sisters! It's a miracle she even considered me. Apparently Griselda loves my dad because she gave me a lot of praise and recommendation."

"That's so wonderful," said Hermione. "Didn't I always tell you you'd be an interior designer?"

They celebrated with Fred and Angelina that night, drinking lots of champagne – except for Angelina, whose pregnancy was going splendidly.

It was well past midnight when Fred carried a sleeping Angelina home and Ginny kissed Hermione goodnight, as she was going to spend the night at Harry's.

Hermione lay curled on the sofa feeling happy for Ginny. The fire warmed her cold feet and she was slowly drifting to sleep when she heard the doorbell ring.

She groggily forced herself to get up and opened the door, to see a pained Draco Malfoy looking at her with pleading eyes.

He held a package in his hands and asked politely if she'd let him in.

"What the hell are you doing here?" asked Hermione, annoyed.

"Colin Creevey sent me this tonight," said Draco, extending his hand with the package in it.

She read the note attached to it first and recognized Colin's messy scrawl.

The note read:

_Fix things with her._

Hermione was curious when she opened up the package and found a beautiful glass frame with the picture of her sitting at the foot of the Peter Pan statue. It was a still Muggle photograph, and Hermione could clearly see the tear running down her cheek.

"You look beautiful," commented Draco.

Hermione sniffed and looked up at him. "Look at me and tell me you felt nothing for that other girl."

Draco looked straight into her eyes and said seriously, "I feel absolutely nothing for her. I'm completely and absolutely in love with you."

"Good," said Hermione, sliding her arms around Draco's neck. "Because I think you've grown on me – I was pretty miserably without you."

"It was no walk in the park for me either," whispered Draco against Hermione's lips.

He kissed her soundly and lifted her effortlessly and carried her into Hermione's guest bedroom.

That night Hermione lost her virginity to a man she was head-over-heels in love with. He had been gentle and kind and wonderful.

Hermione looked forward to being with him every night for a very, very long time.


	21. Epilogue

**Author's Note: **Last chapter! It's really more of an epilogue, actually. I wanted to thank all of you who read and reviewed this fic – everyone was absolutely wonderful and motivating! I hope the rest of the HP fics I plan to write will entertain you as much as this one did. I'm currently working on a fic including the trio at Hogwarts, but it's not going to be trio-centric. So once again, thanks to EVERYONE, and I hope this last chapter lives up to your standards!

**One Year Later**

"Do you think I'm ready?"

Ginny Weasley was pacing back and forth in a large and lavish room, fidgeting with her hands with a worried frown on her face. Her small frame was covered in the most beautiful white fabric Hermione had ever seen. It was made of satin and had lace all around it with lovely sequins patterns around the hem and waist. It was Ginny's wedding dress.

"Of course you are," said Hermione soothingly. "You've been ready for years. You and Harry are made for each other and it's about time you got married!"

"But what if we fight?" fretted Ginny. "This is permanent! My parents don't believe in divorce…what if I end up not liking Harry after all?"

"Gin, this is purely pre-wedding jitters and nothing more. You love Harry, Harry loves you. You've been happy together for a long time – at Hogwarts and now. You're ready, I know you are," forced Hermione.

Ginny sighed and flopped down on seat while Hermione winced, hoping she didn't ruin the dress.

"I suppose it's just nerves," said Ginny. "I want everything to be perfect and I'm just stressing out too much, is all."

"Everything _will_ be perfect," said Hermione. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to change and get ready. You'll be fine, I know it!"

Hermione kissed Ginny's forehead and walked out of the room into the opposite room to change into her dress. Ginny had picked out beautiful dresses for the brides' maids – especially for Hermione, as she was the Maid of Honor. Her dress was different than the other girls' – hers was a long, strapless dark purple dress with a thick white ribbon right under her bosom. Above the ribbon was plain, but the entire dress beneath the ribbon had white glittery sequins. The dress complemented Hermione's creamy skin and her hair cascaded in pretty curls down her shoulders.

Hermione slipped into the dress carefully and applied minimal make-up. Just blush and mascara with a simple lip-reddening charm – though with a grape tint to match her dress.

There was a knock at the door and a handsome unusually blond-haired man walked into the room with a bouquet of roses. He was pale and tall with exuberant grey eyes and he was smiling giddily at Hermione.

"Hey," said Hermione, looking at him through the mirror as she put in her earrings.

"Hey back," he said suavely, closing the door behind him. He turned Hermione around by her waist and pulled her close to him as he gave her a long, passionate kiss.

Hermione giggled and twisted out of his grasp, admonishing, "You'll ruin my make-up!"

"Sue me," he smirked, kissing her shoulder.

"We match!" exclaimed Hermione, looking at Draco's dress robes. "Are those new dress robes?"

Draco grinned at her and said, "They very well might be."

He was wearing black dress robes with a dark purple dress shirt underneath and a creamy white tie. He looked so ravishing that Hermione had half the mind to skip the wedding and stay in here with him.

Draco handed her the bouquet of roses and Hermione moaned pleasurably. "You're too good to me," she said, leaning against his chest.

Draco kissed the top of her head and said, "I should be thanking you. You've changed me, Hermione Granger."

There was a knock at the door and Angelina popped her head in. She still had that post-labor glow about her and she had a curvaceous body underneath her bride's maid dress. She smiled knowingly at the couple and said, "Hermione, Ron's here. He's outside. Thought you might want to know."

When Angelina left, Hermione looked up at Draco with pleading eyes. "I really should talk to him, you know. To make sure he's all right."

Draco sighed, slightly annoyed, but dipped his head down to kiss her lightly and give her his permission.

Hermione left hurriedly and made her way down the long corridor. She found Ron outside by the grand fountain, playing with his tie. He still looked the same as the last time she'd seen him, which was almost a year ago. After his trial he had gone underground, away from society for a while. No one knew where he went, but Molly had hinted to her that he might have been in France with Bill and Fleur.

"Hey there," she said simply, leaning against a pole with vines climbing up it.

He looked up at her and half-smiled. "Hey."

Hermione started to walk around him and said, "I've been feeling pretty down lately. You see, my best friend kind of just disappeared one day and didn't even say goodbye."

"I'm sure he's sorry," said Ron. "Maybe he really needed to get away for a while."

"You think he needed to get away for a _year_?" Hermione bit out, feeling the pent-up anger rising. She'd been so angry and surprised when Ron left and now, even though she was thrilled to see him again, she was still hurt that he'd left at all.

Ron stood up helplessly, opening and closing his mouth, thinking of something to say that would both console Hermione and make her understand. "I'm sorry. It's just…after the trial I really couldn't deal with anyone."

"Couldn't _deal _with anyone?" repeated Hermione. "Not even me and Harry? Harry's been through a lot, Ron, and he's never abandoned us."

"I'm not saying what I went through was worse than what Harry's faced," gritted Ron. "But in my defense, finding out I killed someone without even knowing it is no walk in the park either."

"That's not the point! What I'm saying is that you shouldn't have felt like you needed to get away from us. It really hurt to find out you'd left us for a _year_, Ron," said Hermione.

Ron sighed exasperatedly and said, "I can't justify myself, except that I probably wouldn't have recovered as well if I'd stayed here. I don't want to argue with you, Hermione, especially since today is supposed to be such a happy day and I haven't seen you in a long time."

Hermione just stood in front of him, silent for a moment. Finally she relaxed her body and brought out her arms, saying, "Come here."

She hugged him tightly, like a mother embraces her child. Right now she just wanted to protect him from all the evils in the world. Her wonderful Ron, the truest and most genuine person in her life, had suffered and she felt helpless to do anything about it. It seemed incredibly unfair to her that all the people in her life who deserved innocence and happiness were only facing perils and evil. No one deserved such a fate. She'd thought, after the war, that Ron had been saved from Harry's fate. He hadn't killed anyone and he'd survived to see the next day. How surprising and unfair it was to find out, years later, that he actually did commit a crime against an innocent woman. Would there ever be simplicity in any of their lives?

She cupped his face and looked straight into his tormented blue eyes. "Will you ever be the same?"

Ron tried to look elsewhere, but couldn't avoid Hermione's penetrating gaze. He sighed, defeated, and shook his head. "It's not something I'm likely to forget. This whole year I've been convincing myself it wasn't my fault, that I was under a spell, and I do believe that now. But you're never going to forget something like that – Malfoy will never forget it either, and every time I see him I'll be reminded of it. But…but I can try to live with it. I won't let it ruin my life; I won't become a haunted shell of who I used to be."

Hermione beamed at him, immensely proud at how far he'd come since Hogwarts. He was still the short-tempered Ron every now and then, but he had grown far more than Hermione could have hoped. He was an adult, and he processed and dealt with things like such. He understood the things that happened to him in life and he tried his damndest to cope with them in a healthy way.

"I'm proud of you," whispered Hermione. "I will always be proud of you, and I will always be by your side."

"What of Malfoy?" asked Ron, the faintest hint of a smirk playing on his face.

Hermione smiled back at him devilishly and said, "We're doing splendidly. He makes me really happy, Ron. I do hope you'll try your best to be civil with him; he really has changed, you know. We're even living together – we have been for almost a year."

Ron gaped at her. "You're living at _Malfoy Manor_?"

Hermione giggled. "It is surprising, isn't it? I always used to think Malfoy Manor was scary and dank, but to Draco's dismay I've let Ginny re-do the place. It's actually quite different from the inside now. The outside, however…still looks like death on a dreary day."

Ron snorted and rolled his eyes, and said, "Going to be a lasting relationship, do you think?"

Hermione thought for a moment and said, "Yes, I do think so."

"I'm glad you're happy," said Ron, and as an afterthought added, "Albeit I'm not happy you're dating an arse like Malfoy –" Hermione punched his arm "– but I'll try to be nice to him."

"Thank you," said Hermione, after giving him another smack for good measure. "Now let's go, dear friend, unless you want to miss your sister's wedding."

They walked together out to the grand garden, where many people could be seen wearing a variety of fancy clothes, sitting in rows on both sides of the pathway. Hermione spotted Molly and Arthur sitting in the first row, with Bill and Fleur sitting by them. Their five-year old fraternal twins, Angeline and Benjamin, were playing with each other on the floor at their feet. Angeline, with her long, flowing blond hair, and Benjamin with his sparkling blue eyes and ginger hair. The newborn, a bubbly little boy named Corin, was playing with Fleur's fingers. Molly was coddling Fred's two-month old son, Daniel, who was presently staring peacefully at the twins. Hermione smiled when she saw Molly and Bill bickering. Bill still had his fang earring in one ear and a pony of red hair, and Molly was still trying in vain to get him to cut it off. Arthur, ever the peaceful man, was smiling humbly as he watched over his growing family.

Hermione could tell Ron was eyeing his parents, having not seen them in a year. She touched his arm lightly and gave him a slight shove. "Go on," she whispered, "They've been waiting to see you."

Ron kissed her on the cheek before walking – quite fast, in Hermione's opinion – towards his parents. She saw Molly jump up in tears and hug her youngest son tightly, and Arthur come forward to pat him affectionately on the back. They were all engaged in conversation before long, everyone looking happy and Molly still in tears.

"How did it go?" asked a husky voice from behind her.

Without turning around, Hermione said, "I think he'll be alright. And…Draco, I know you haven't really recovered either. I just want you to be easy on him. Try to remember that it wasn't his fault about your mother."

Draco looked down at his feet and managed to stammer, "I know, 'Mione. It was my father's fault, and I'll never blame Ron for his cruelty."

"Oh, sweetheart," cooed Hermione, giving him a quick peck on the lips. "I'm so lucky to have such an understanding boyfriend."

Draco looked as if he were about to say something, but thought better of it and smiled at her. He rubbed her back before taking his seat, as the ceremony was about to begin in a few moments.

Hermione signaled Ron and they both hurried to get behind the grand doors, into the hallway inside of the building. As the maid of honor and best man, respectively, Hermione and Ron would walk down the aisle together first, followed by some old friends from Hogwarts. Harry had contacted Neville Longbottom, who had eagerly agreed to escort an excited Padma Patil. Lastly was Colin, who would escort, to everyone's surprise, Luna Lovegood.

"Luna!" Hermione exclaimed. "Oh my goodness, it's been years! I had no idea you would be here!"

Ron looked dumbfounded as he gazed at Luna, surprised. Luna still had her characteristic pale blond hair, which was now elegantly curled and reached to the middle of her back. She stood tall and slender, her large orb-like silver eyes taking everything in.

"Hello Hermione," said Luna in her dreamy voice. She smiled faintly at her, as if not quite there.

"Ginny didn't tell me you would be a lady in waiting!" Hermione continued, after embracing Luna in a quick hug. Luna hadn't hugged her back, but awkwardly smiled in her dreamy state, and muttered, "Yes."

"Hello Ronald," said Luna, her eyes boring into him. "It's been a while, hasn't it? You look like death."

Hermione stiffened at that comment, as she was dreadfully reminded of Luna's unabashed honesty. She hoped Ron wouldn't react badly.

Surprisingly, Ron laughed good-naturedly and said, "Cheers, Luna. You look like death too."

Although Hermione thought she looked quite pretty, she could see how one would think that. Luna had unusually pale skin and was very thin, and sometimes reminded Hermione of Draco.

"Has anyone seen Harry recently?" asked Hermione, suddenly remembering that this was not only Ginny's wedding, but Harry's also.

"I did," said Luna. "He looked surprised to see me too. He almost jumped out of his suit when he opened the door to find me. I was only looking for the washroom…"

Hermione stifled a giggle and said, "Did he look alright to you? Nervous or anything?"

"Oh, I suppose," said Luna indifferently, "I told him he should take some medicine to cheer him up…actually, the Ministry has been killing innocent Blibbering Humdingers and using their body oils to create potions for better health! I thought it was preposterous and I even staged a campaign against it. Daddy, bless him, is trying his best to help too, even though he's old and retired and useless."

Everyone around Luna tried to suppress their laughter, but in the end they all let out a howl and laughed at Luna's absurdity which they all held so dear.

Wiping tears from his eyes, Ron said, "It's good to have you back, Luna. God knows I've missed you. I mean…your humour."

Ron pointedly looked away at that point and Hermione couldn't help grinning and nudging his side.

The orchestra started to play outside and that was everyone's cue to start walking down the aisle. Hermione looped her arm through Ron's and they walked out elegantly, followed minutes later by the other four. Hermione could hear Colin struggling to keep Luna's attention on the wedding, as she kept falling behind even though her arm was looped through Colin's. Hermione and Ron tried not to laugh since it would not be very proper to burst out laughing. Hermione spotted Draco sitting near the front and when he looked back at her she winked at him, and he smirked right back.

Finally reaching the altar, the women separated from the men on either side. Hermione spotted Harry standing near Ron, looking quite nervous and pale. When she finally caught his attention, Hermione grinned and gave him a subtle thumbs-up, and was granted with a smile in return.

The event was wonderful. Ginny looked absolutely beautiful in her wedding dress and veil, being escorted down the aisle by her teary father. Harry and Ginny exchanged vows, and when Ginny Weasley became Ginny Potter, everyone clapped and roared and cheered. Their first kiss as husband and wife was heart-warming and everyone was happy. The after-reception was filled with drinking and frivolity and congratulations.

Luna was sipping on a scotch when Hermione caught up with her.

"Enjoying yourself?" asked Hermione.

Luna looked startled to see Hermione, and gave an involuntary burp before she said, "Yes. I especially like these drinks. What are they called?"

Hermione laughed and said, "It's alcohol, Luna. And by the looks of those empty glasses you've had quite a bit. Go easy, won't you?"

Luna drained the glass she had and giggled uncharacteristically and said loudly, "These are really quite good!"

Hermione patted her on the back and before she left her, she gave a meaningful look to the bartender, who nodded back to her in consent, agreeing that Luna had had too much to drink.

On the other side of the garden was Ron, looking at Luna. Hermione, having a hunch, poked Ron's side and jumped up, startled.

"Hey Hermione," he said.

"Just out of the blue here, do you by any chance happen to fancy Luna?" asked Hermione nonchalantly.

Ron almost choked on his drink, saying, "What makes you say that?"

"I don't know, you've been looking at her quite a bit today," said Hermione, grinning knowingly.

"I might," said Ron sheepishly. "I don't know. I can't explain it, but I'm _really _happy she's here today."

"Well go tell her that!" urged Hermione, giving Ron a push in Luna's direction. "But watch out, though, she's a terrible drunk."

Ron glanced back at Hermione before approaching Luna. Hermione watched as he nervously tapped on Luna's shoulder, and Luna turned around to look at him, the permanent surprised look still on her face as Ron started talking to Luna. Luna listened to him attentively, then said something which made Ron laugh. Satisfied with the results, Hermione gave herself a smug grin.

"Whose life are you meddling in now?" asked Draco from beside her.

Hermione swatted at his chest and he caught her hand, bringing it up to his lips.

"Fancy getting away for a bit?" asked Hermione delicately.

Draco grinned at her, an evil glint in his eyes, as he said, "My, my, my. You've become quite the naughty little girl, haven't you?"

Hermione fixed him with an innocent stare, and in her baby voice said, "But, Draco, what on earth are you implying? I was only asking if you'd like to get some fresh air. Don't try and corrupt me!"

Draco suavely dipped down to kiss her lips and said after resurfacing, "That ship sailed long ago, my love."

Hermione rolled her eyes and taking his hand, she said, "C'mon."

She led him and he followed blindly. At this point, Draco would have followed her anywhere. It was still surprising to wake up beside her. He never would have thought he'd be with her and that she'd be so incredible. He felt lucky just to be near her. Reflections of his former self would surface, causing him to be hostile toward her, but she never faltered. She never left him. She was always there for him, helping him get through those periods. Her loyalty and faithfulness caused him to fall in love with her again each day; he was finally ready to do something about it.

They sat on a pretty white bench, Hermione leaning against the arm of it and setting her legs over Draco's lap. He hugged her legs and leaned against the back, relaxing.

After a few minutes Hermione said, "Mm, I need a drink. I'll be right back – do you want one?"

Draco shook his head and watched her walk away, her hips entrancing him.

When Hermione returned, drinking sherry straight from the bottle, she almost choked in surprise. Draco was on his knee, looking up at her with his endearing grey eyes. She knew what was coming, but she couldn't think of anything to say. She was all choked up and too speechless.

"I know you know what I'm about to ask you. You're quicker than I sometimes give you credit for," began Draco, chuckling to himself. "I've been with you for a year and it has changed my life. When I wake up beside you in the mornings I feel too lucky. Out of all the guys you could have picked, you picked me: the heartless arse. But I changed. I wasn't heartless anymore, because my heart was completely filled with you. You were like a drug and I just couldn't quit you – I never want to quit you either. And I figure, if we've made it through this rough year together, we can make it through anything. I never – ever – want to be without you; I don't want to be that arse again. Please, Hermione Granger, will you marry me?"

Hermione knew there were tears streaming down her face, but she did nothing about them. She was still trying to process Draco's sweet proposal. He had been so sincere and kind and _different_ than the Draco she knew at Hogwarts. And then there was the proposal itself. He was talking of _marriage_. Was he really ready to settle down with just one woman? Was he ready to throw in his title of Bachelor of the Year for good? Evidently. Maybe it was just Hermione who wasn't ready. But of course she was! She was more so than Draco. She was the city girl who'd grown up with traditional parents – parents who were still happily married and in love to this day. So why was she still standing there looking like an idiot?

She looked at the ring Draco held in his hands. It was absolutely beautiful with the largest diamond Hermione had ever seen. He must have spent a fortune on it. It brought back memories of Draco buying her new dress robes after he'd ruined hers. In his own petulant way, he was being nice. She remembered him throwing a fit and being very particular about the robes she chose out. She remembered wearing the beautiful dress to the Ministry gala and seeing Draco – remembered how she got piss-drunk and he had taken care of her. She remembered their first fight and how miserable she had been without him, even though their fight only lasted one day. She realised, now, that if she turned his proposal down, she would lose him. She would feel the same way she did before, only ten times worse. She wouldn't wake up to his sweet angelic face. She wouldn't be able to drink his delicious coffee. She wouldn't hear his sarcastic yet endearing remarks about everything she did. She wouldn't be able to kiss him goodnight and feel safe in his arms, with the security of knowing he would still be there the next morning. She didn't want to lose him. She loved Draco Malfoy with all of her heart and she always would.

Draco was still kneeling in front of her, taking a chance by wearing his heart on his sleeve. As each second went by, he became more and more worried that Hermione would say no. He was so close to exploding that it was a relief when Hermione finally spoke.

She laughed and wiped the tears from her eyes even though more were streaming down anyway. "You stupid boy, how can I say no? Your whole little speech about being in love with me…it goes both ways. I love you, Draco, I really do. Did you really think I would let you go, let you be with any other woman? Hah! I'd rather die than be without you. So yes. Yes, I will marry you, and love you for the rest of my life."

Draco's grin was so wide Hermione feared that his face would split. He placed the ring on her finger delicately, then picked Hermione up and kissed her until he lost his breath. One arm was supporting her back and the other was under her knees, and he carried her back to the main garden, for everyone to see.

"Wait," whispered Hermione in his ear. "It's Ginny and Harry's day today…let's wait to tell everyone our news until tomorrow."

Ginny and Harry were currently dancing to an upbeat song being played by the special guests for the night – the Weird Sisters. Fred was cradling his son while he swayed to the music and Angelina was hovering over him, laughing in his ear. George was trying to pick up a beautiful brunette – and was succeeding marvelously. Molly and Arthur danced slowly together despite the music and the twins were running around them, giggling playfully. Bill and Fleur – two unabashed teenagers at heart – were kissing passionately near the bar, while Ron watched Luna do a drunken dance. It was very odd indeed to see Luna dancing so wildly. When she swayed too violently Ron was there to catch her, and Luna gazed at him with her trademark eyes before kissing him lightly. Ron turned bright red and held her tight. Padma was dancing with William, both of whom were now married to each other as of six months ago. Colin, ever the playboy, was surrounded by plenty of girls, the flash of his camera going off every couple of seconds.

Draco put down Hermione and spun her around on the dance floor. When he pulled her back to him she said woozily, "Watch it, fiancé, I might just be drunk right now."

He kissed her again before pushing her away, twirling her loose form. Despite their plan of not announcing their engagement until tomorrow, many people couldn't help noticing there was an unusually large diamond on Hermione's ring finger.

Some people like to think there is a little niche for everyone in the world to be happy. If so, why are there unhappy people in the world? People are dying, being diagnosed with terminal illnesses, and suffering from evils all around the world. But as long as there is love, there will always be hope and happiness. Love can spring from the most unexpected places - it can replace hatred and darkness with light and happiness. As long as there is love, there is life.

THE END


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